Harry Potter and the Host Club
by Stalker of Stories
Summary: COMPLETE After defeating Voldemort, Harry and Sirius escape to Japan. Watch as Harry attends a prestigious muggle school, avoids his godfather, and is as dense as can be. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is a her, right?) affiliates.**

**Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Traumatized!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves**

Chapter One

This was it. Here he was, fifteen years old, and starting school in a country as far away from home as he could get without going somewhere obvious. He loved it. He loved how it was spring when school started, instead of dreary and Fall-ish, loved how warm it was in contrast to the cold rains of England, and most of all, he loved the school he would now be attending.

Ouran Koukou, or Ouran High School, was a prestigious school for rich kids, where everyone was putting up a front of some kind and knew it. No one would think it odd that he was amazingly rich – no matter how frugal his spending normally was, he _was_ rich – or that he was foreign; no one would mind if he seemed a bit distant. They would surely assume that he, like many others, was looking for opportunity or something. The eccentricities of his personality could easily be ironed out to make him seem like the heir to a fortune, no matter his past.

Best of all, no one here would care that he was Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Twice-Accidental-Slayer of Voldemort. No one would know that he had grown up in a cupboard with little to eat; they might not even notice if he was shorter than average from his malnourishment as a child, as most Japanese people didn't seem too much taller than he was. (He had, admittedly, seen a few very tall men around, but not too much taller than six feet or so.) Here, Harry didn't have to worry about Death Eaters, Dumbledore, or any little fan clubs devoted to him. It was the last place anyone expected him to go, and it was halfway around the world from Hogwarts. It was perfect.

He exited his flat smoothly, locking the door behind him and sticking the key in his pocket that had been charmed thief-proof. The lock was a magical one, so even in the average neighborhood he had purchased his flat in, there was no chance that anyone could get in and look through his things unless they too were magical people. (Sirius would be able to take them down either way, but as he wasn't likely to remain in the flat too long...) So it was with total confidence that he started down the stairs to the street level, yawning as he went.

However, when Harry yawned, he closed his eyes, as most people do. Closing his eyes was not, in fact, a brilliant idea, because he did so as he was reaching the next level down and knocked into someone. This woke him up immediately, and just as his accidental victim was going to fall over the rail, Harry grabbed their sleeve and yanked him(?) back. When righted, he noticed that it was a slightly girly-looking boy wearing a large sweater and slacks with ungainly frames on his nose that magnified already large brown eyes. Well, he assumed it was a boy, he couldn't really tell though with the unfortunate haircut and baggy clothes. Rather like him in that, but Harry's clothes were no longer baggy, nor was his hair _that_ shaggy.

"Aa, sorry 'bout that," he rubbed the back of his neck, realized he'd spoken in English (the translation spell he'd picked allowed him to use English, but it allowed him to be fluent without constant reapplication. A useful spell, but not considered practical by most vacationers who needed translation charms to begin with because they didn't care about being fluent all the time and it required constant use of the language to maintain) and repeated the phrase in Japanese. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

The kid (well, s/he looked probably around Harry's age, and was ever-so-slightly taller than him, maybe an inch, but still) blinked his/her/its large eyes before shrugging. "It was an accident. I have to get going though; I'll be late for school if I don't." Then he/she/it turned around and jogged down the stairs, strapless satchel under his arm, before Harry shrugged too, following. He had a train to catch.

Even in the area he had decided would be home, Harry drew stares from passerby. He figured it was probably the high end uniform that he'd spent far too much on, or maybe everyone was used to knowing everyone in the neighborhood, but he didn't really care. The only people he'd really seen was the landlady, the cross-dresser one floor down (he was kind of weird, but a very convincing woman), and the day before he'd seen a rather pretty girl, probably the same age as the It, with gum in her hair. The landlady was the only one he'd spoken to at all.

It wasn't until a few minutes after getting on the train that would drop him near his new school that he noticed the person he'd knocked into was standing on the bus as well. It took off the bulky frames, cleaning them swiftly on the sweater, and Harry decided. A girl then. Probably the girl who had gotten gum in her hair the day before, considering the haircut, and he was sure he'd heard apologies from the transvestite the night before for stepping on someone's contact lenses. It fit, therefore he didn't question the girl. Not that it was his business anyway. During the time on the bus, neither spoke to the other, nor acknowledged their existence.

For a time, this worked, until they were getting off. At the same stop. Well, Harry was rather surprised, to say the least. From the maps he had studied, the school nearest Ouran – aside from the ones for middle and primary students that were attached to the high school – was Ourin, which was a mile further on that train line. Ouran was a prestigious school, the best education money could buy in Japan. The tuition would have been considered outrageous to anyone from Hogwarts but Harry by comparison (apparently, he was paying several times the tuition even Malfoy paid because Dumbledore was in charge of his accounts, the old bastard (1)), so everyone who went was certainly well off enough to buy a uniform.

_Must be a scholarship student_, he reasoned with himself. Harry was pretty sure that Hogwarts gave out scholarships too, though infrequently. He was positive that Voldemort couldn't have paid for his tuition, since he was an orphan, but he had studied at Hogwarts, so they had to have some sort of scholarship program. Again, it wasn't his business, so he didn't really care. _Though I should think they would just buy her a uniform if they have the money to spare to give someone a full ride. She must have Hermione-level smarts to make it in, too._

The rest of the walk from the stop was filled with thoughts of his ex-friends, and his circumstances. After the Triwizard Tournament almost a year before, Dumbledore had sent Harry back to his aunt and uncle's house, despite his protestations. How could a ward that was supposedly based on love operate in a place where the feeling necessary to maintain it had never existed? And how could a blood ward protect him from someone who had his own blood running through their veins? After a summer of back breaking work, little food, and regular beatings (well, 'beatings' was a bit strong; he was only bullied by Dudley and his gang, and Vernon and Petunia usually stuck with slapping him or throwing things at him, but those were the words used in _Prophet_. It could have been worse) _Snape_ of all people was picked to deliver him to King's Cross.

Between Point A (Privet Drive) and Point B (King's Cross) Snape pulled the car into a small cafe in London. The usually harsh man seemed much kinder, though Harry couldn't pinpoint why, and the pair had an odd breakfast in the cafe before continuing on. After two car changes and several 'wrong' turns (for misdirection), they had parked a block off and walked the rest of the way... to find King's Cross in flames and the structure half collapsed, with muggle firemen running in and out with half-charred bodies over their shoulders.

Death Eaters had snuck up behind the pair while Snape was restarting the car to take them to them somewhere else – Harry presumed the Leaky Cauldron – and the back-half of the car had been ripped off in a twist of grinding metal that left Harry deaf in one ear for the two months it took to treat him. The snarky potions professor had attempted to grab Harry's arm, but a bright red spell clipped his shoulder (Harry suspected it wasn't actually directed that the Potions Master) that made his torso essentially explode in a shower of red before anything saving-wise could come to pass. Harry was captured by Death Eaters – one of them being Lucius Malfoy – and taken to Malfoy Manor via portkey.

It was an elegant place, as Harry noted while being levitated through some halls. High ceilings, wide passageways, beautiful artwork, and even some pure white peacocks were shown to him as they moved through the complex. It was the sort of place he imagined eventually buying for himself when he was old enough, and if he ever had the gold necessary to get such an expensive dwelling, or lived long enough to buy a domicile at all. He recognized that he was being shown around as a mockery of what he had never and would never have, but it was still amazing.

The final destination of the impromptu tour was an antechamber of some sort. Sitting oh-so patient and oh-so pristine was Voldemort himself, sipping an amber liquid (likely alcoholic in nature) from a glass of what was probably pure diamond or something equally exorbitant. Crimson eyes met emerald, and then the Dark Lord went a-monologuing. What was it with Voldemort and monologues? Harry kept silent through the entire speech, barely keeping still as his scar flared with pain.

Then the Death Eaters released him, doing the "circle time" thing that reminded him of Kindergarten once more as Voldemort addressed all forty-one of his servants by name with Harry right there. No one noticed as Harry scooted up against a wall, and just as Voldemort came to taunt him, his hand grasped the gilded hilt of a sword that adorned the wall, and slashed blindly.

Not that he hit anything, let alone Voldemort. The Dark Lord laughed at his pitiful attempts at saving himself, mocking him further. He went on to detail some prophecy, how Dumbledore believed he only had the first half of it that he had "gifted" him through Snape – now very much dead – and how that prophecy stated that Harry, the malnourished, underweight, average student was supposedly the only one who could ever kill him. The monster of a man talked about Dumbledore's belief that the Power the Dark Lord didn't know of was love, but he had studied ancient magicks like that. Many mothers had died for their children, and Harry was the only one to survive. He had been saved by the prophecy and nothing more.

After a few crucios and more gloating and exposition, Voldemort shot the killing curse at Harry. He didn't dodge. The green light touched his face with the softest of caresses, promising oblivion, and left just like that, the spell rebounding suddenly and killing Voldemort again. Somehow – Harry assumed Dumbledore had a second spy who saved him – he woke up in St. Mungo's two months later, which was apparently a wizarding hospital of some sort.

While he was unconscious, all the signs of physical abuse and malnutrition, which Madame Pomfrey had ignored when he went into the Hospital Wing all those times at Hogwarts, had been found by his Healing Team. The Dursleys had already stood trial and been punished the muggle way. Dumbledore had swooped in with the Weasleys in tow, congratulating him, talking about the Order of Merlin, First Class, that the teen would be rewarded in one week's time. He talked about the attack on King's Cross (anyone who arrived at the station before ten thirty had been in critical condition or dead, most of these being muggleborn students such as Hermione), and how everyone already knew of his heroic encounter with the Dark Lord. Harry didn't much like the "conversation."

On his way to the loo, he ended up overhearing Ron and Ginny talking with Dumbledore. Apparently the drink that had been on his bedside (he hadn't had any, luckily) was laced with something called "Amortentia," which he guessed from the first part of the name was a love potion. This hypothesis was confirmed when Ginny started spouting about how Harry was the ideal husband, since he would do all the cooking, cleaning, etc. Ron was talking about how great it was to be best friends with him, since he would get all the girls who flocked to the young celebrity (there was no way that Harry could resist the Amortentia after all, so while Harry was Ginny, Ron would have plenty of girls to choose from), get a lot of amazing job offers (who else could have helped Harry become what he was?), and probably make it rich writing a book or something about how amazing all their adventures were (with the proper embellishments to make his own role seem all the more prominent).

After that, he didn't drink anything unless it was water he conjured personally – Flitwick had taught them a minor water charm during the "Skrewt Incident" - or else potions given him by the healers that he knew precisely what they were for and what was in them. He was released from St. Mungo's a week later, having given autographs to each healer who attended to him (he later found out they were collector's items and worth a thousand galleons a pop since he'd never given any autographs but those twelve). Armed with only his Gringotts key, he floo'd to Diagon Alley and ran to the bank with all his might as crowds tried to rush him.

In said marble sanctuary, he met up with his account manager (who he hadn't known existed), got to see Sirius for the first time in four months (they apparently had the same account manager, and Sirius was, coincidentally, at the bank when Harry ran in), and found out his yearly tuition for Hogwarts had been 12 thousand galleons more than the maximum, which was only one thousand. A kid could go to Hogwarts for a year armed with only his autograph! All that money, he found, went to Dumbledore's pay, Snape's potion stock, and something called the "ignorance fund" that he later found was for the Dursleys and other people who didn't like him to like him less and press him further into Dumbledore's pocket. Also, one hundred galleons a month went to the personal accounts of Ronald and Ginevra Weasley. Sirius had been foaming at the mouth when the goblin finished reading off the unsanctioned expenditures.

Of course, both Harry and Sirius found a new account manager since that one had been letting Dumbledore into their coffers. Goblins in general weren't terribly trustworthy, but as luck would have it they did listen to whoever had the gold, and they both had a lot more than Harry ever could have dreamed of. The magically binding contracts helped as well, since Harry wasn't keen on being robbed blind by goblins.

Even though Voldemort was re-dead and Pettigrew captured, Sirius was still a convict who was to be Kissed on sight. Harry ended up living with him in one of the private Black mansions in Ireland for the next three months, having fun for the first time in his life and learning enough to pass his OWLs – for the most part – so that he could study and attend the muggle high school of his choosing. He had looked through brochure after brochure for high end schools with the highest graduation rates that would help him to take over Potter Co. (his family's conglomerate) and several other companies he found himself owning, though not part of the Company when he would be old enough.

In the end, he picked Ouran. People would expect him to "go muggle" in America perhaps, or Australia, but the magical population of Japan kept themselves to themselves, and the language wasn't a terribly popular one to learn. He applied, made it in with ease (due to the translation spell, he was actually more fluent in Japanese than English, and while his skill with mathematics was lacking, a bit of cramming got him in just fine), and purchased a flat straight away.

With these thoughts on his mind, he almost missed his first look inside Ouran as a student. It was... crowded. All the girls were wearing the yellow uniform dresses (excepting she-it), and all the boys were in the light blue uniform suits. Harry looked around with a soft smile. Somehow, this place seemed more like home that Hogwarts, and he loved it. After asking directions from a girl who looked about his age, he made his way to the room for class 1-A.

It seemed a normal classroom, if a bit extravagant. The desks were obviously new – probably replaced every year given how rich the school would be – and without the quill-borings he recalled from Hogwarts. Not that people at Ouran used quills, thank goodness. There was a whiteboard instead of a blackboard, with various colored dry-erase markers lined up, and someone with considerable artistic talent had already turned said whiteboard into a masterpiece of cherry blossoms and a sunset. How someone could do that with dry-erase markers, Harry had no clue, but it _was_ pretty wicked. A few students were loitering about, but it was still ten minutes until the bell.

Two students caught his eye. It was hard not to look, really, given what they were doing. Tallish twins with impish grins and red hair were surrounded by a crowd of girls and appeared to be doing some sort of twincest routine to the adoration of a small cluster of girls. While Harry could admit with all sincerity that it was kind of interesting, and the guys were definitely good looking, the whole thing just weirded him out. It was obviously all just an act, yet the girls lapped it up. He could freely admit that a lot of guys he knew had some weird idea about threesomes with twin girls, but that didn't make the idea any less disturbing to the young wizard. They were definitely good looking guys though.

Shaking his head free of these thoughts (_I came here to study, not ogle cute boys_), Harry sat in a desk that was off to the side and midway back to have a nice read. He'd never realized before how hard it must be for Hermione to have always read in the presence of him and Ron, though he was sure he'd come close sometimes with Sirius. They talked at top volume about Quidditch, and she rarely told them to shut up. Some real respect built up for her over the next few minutes as he resisted snapping at the cluster of girls who kept squealing at the twins' antics. While their obvious deviant nature reminded him of Fred and George, he wasn't considering that terribly endearing at that point. He wanted to _read_.

Just when he would have blown up, the bell rang, signaling the start of class. And, well, it passed as classes did. The first teacher introduced himself, they went over the curriculum for term, the next teacher came in, and so forth and so on until lunch. It was really odd not to have to go from class to class on his own with the exception of his electives, but Harry didn't really mind either way. It was kind of nice to be lazy like that. He ate his lunch (a homemade chicken sandwich, an apple, and a few sweets he'd picked up in the wizarding part of Kyoto) in peace, with only the scholarship student (she had been identified as Fujioka Haruhi) remaining in the classroom with him as she ate her bento.

The rest of the day was a blur of much the same, excluding Sirius calling his cell phone five minutes to the end of the last class when everyone was just goofing off anyway. They had a quick chat in which Harry reminded him that school wasn't out until _after_ three, not five-'til-three, and couldn't he find his own way around Nara? He hung up when Sirius started squealing about seeing deer in Nara (the place was famous for them after all), exasperated. Was there nowhere that he could just _study_? That was the entire point of applying to such a high-end school.

As soon as class was out, he was gone, heading for a library. Unfortunately, after school let out for the day, students could only be in classrooms to have a meeting with a teacher or of they were in a club and a teacher loaned them the room. However, after visiting all of the designated study areas, Harry was _fuming_. None of them were the least bit quiet! Maybe if the noise level was steady, he could block it out and concentrate, but the noise could go from whispering to full blown screams in a split seconds, which was not good for his ears or his concentration. After wandering the entire campus, he finally found one room, a music room, that seemed to only have smatterings of conversation inside. He knew the music rooms had several attached chambers for storage, or for composers to sit quietly without a cacophony of practicing peers. Maybe he could ask permission to use one of those rooms?

Harry opened the door after rapping his knuckle on the frame. What he saw was something he really didn't think he would see that day, but oh well. A downtrodden Fujioka was carrying a tray around to various small tables. At these tables sat many girls, and each had one or two boys as well. The twins from class were doing their twincest thing again, but a bit more earnestly, and to the collective excitement of all the girls at their table. Off to another side was a tall blond boy romancing a girl in a way that made her look ready to melt (literally). The third table had a blond boy – he didn't look like he'd hit puberty yet, but he was wearing the high school uniform – holding a stuffed bunny and eating cakes while entertaining a cluster of girls in some way. Beside this Loli-boy was someone of what Harry could describe only as the strong and silent type, with the kid cuddled against his side. He was probably taller than Sirius, who was just about six foot. A group of girls seemed to be admiring him from afar.

"Can I help you?" Harry jumped slightly, turning to the left and reflexively reaching for his wand... then he remembered that one: he was in Japan, no one wanted to kill him here... yet. And, for two, he recalled that his wand was in a holster on his arm because his pockets were smaller in this uniform than the voluminous robes of Hogwarts. The figure he turned to was tall (actually, all the boys in the room were tall-ish except for cake-boy... and now Harry), with black hair and glasses. He had a look about him that Harry could only categorize as "Slytherin," given the sly appraisal he was doubtlessly giving the room even as he seemed to be paying attention to the intruder in the room.

"Aa, sorry. I was hoping I could use a side-room to study," Harry explained. "This seems to be the only part of the school with a relatively low and steady noise level. Is that alright?" He wasn't entirely sure _why_ he was asking, since these people (probably one of the clubs) didn't exactly own the room, but if they were using it and whatever they were doing was so popular, then they had to have the rights to use it at least. He didn't want to infringe on that... he just wanted a quiet place to read where Sirius couldn't barge in and start gushing about Japan or the bullet train or anything equally ridiculous.

"Hm," cold black eyes looked Harry up and down, and he felt suspiciously like his worth was being weighed. "Who are you, and where are you from? Your accent isn't one I recognize off the top of my head." Definitely one of the future company heads then.

"Potter Harry from class 1-A," he stuck his hand out delicately for a shake, which was returned. "I'm English, but I'm pretty fluent in Japanese; so far most people haven't caught onto the accent, or if they do they haven't mentioned it." He shrugged nonchalantly. "And yourself?"

"Ootori Kyouya," he responded. Harry immediately filed the Ootori family under sly business-types, perhaps like Blaise Zabini in that way.

"Ootori-san... that sounds familiar," Harry paused in thought. Where had he heard that name before? It clicked. As did his fingers. "Oh! Your hospitals are the leading buyers of the basic medical-botany guide books and supplies from Potter-Evans Medical Corporation outside of Europe. I thought I recognized the name." He paused again, thinking. "I think I read a file... since you're in Ouran still, that makes you the third son of the family, the most ambitious I don't doubt, and supposedly the one least likely to inherit." Green eyes overlooked Harry's frames as he peered into the other boy's own eyes. "But, as the third born you have the most to prove, the most to accomplish, and more reason to do so. Am I right?"

Harry liked to consider himself very observant, far more than the average Gryffindor. Getting to know Ron, he understood what younger siblings went through, and while Ron didn't handle the situation well, Harry understood the feelings behind it. He understood ambition, proving self worth. He'd always tried to prove that he was Harry, not the Boy-Who-Loved, just Harry, and that Harry was more real and better than the vaunted moniker he had been "gifted" with as a baby. He understood the price of individuality, and that the youngest Ootori was putting a lot on the line be deviating enough to do what he was. He was gaining social skills doing... whatever this was.

There was light reflected in the glasses perched on the older boy's nose, so Harry had no idea how he was reacting, but he figured the boy was at least surprised.

"I take it that you are the heir to the Potter-Evans Corporation?" Ootori Kyouya asked. "I can't say I know much about your own current standings. Perhaps we could chat at some point?" Harry smiled slightly, nodding. A business deal in high school with the heir to a prominent medical supply company would be fortuitous for the older boy. This would be the price of a quiet place to study, but that was fine with Harry. "I think the room off the second door to the left will suit your purposes. The walls are thick, very nearly soundproofed, and there is a table you can use."

There was, and he did. Harry spent everyday for the next two weeks coming into the music room before the Host Club started up for the day, saying hello to each of the members (and the Fujioka girl, though she was designated "Indentured Slave" and, as of that first Thursday, "Host In-Training"). Harry had come out of the room on the first Thursday to find his fellow first year wearing one of the boys' uniforms and looking resigned.

* * *

It wasn't a week later, after some commotion caused Harry to peek in to the music room curiously, and heard the "King" of the Host club, Suou Tamaki, ask a question to Fujioka with the rest of the club looking on, nonplussed.

"... Are you a girl?" He was holding what appeared to be her wallet in his hand, and Harry blinked. Was their "King" really that dumb?

Fujioka seemed just as nonplussed as her club-mates, looking at Takashi with a slightly confused look. "Yes. Biologically at least (2)," she shrugged and went to continue to clean up, but the blond half-Frenchman started shouting and whimpering. Harry didn't bother to decipher his comments or Fujioka's responses (if she formulated any), instead walking up beside the other second year. The one who seemed sane, that is.

"Did it seriously take him _two weeks_ to figure that out?" He dead-panned in the peanut gallery, sending an incredulous glance towards the others present. "Please tell me all of you noticed?" They nodded. "Thank Merlin," was the muted whisper after as he turned, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Club was over, and the school would close for the evening in less than half an hour. He had to get home before Sirius, too, or else he would call in the police (or, as the older wizard still called them, "please-men," much like the rest of the undereducated magical society) as he had a week before when Harry stopped at the market on his way home. "See you all tomorrow." And with that, he left.

There was a reason why Harry studied at school instead of in the small apartment that he and Sirius rented. Part of it was that it was small, and that Sirius had a large energy. Another part of the matter was that Harry Potter, after long years of living in a cupboard, suffered from flashbacks to his childhood when in a small, enclosed area. Simply put, he was claustrophobic.

This was not, however, the main reason why he studied by the host room day in and day out. He had to get away. Sirius was also mildly claustrophobic when combined with cold weather, prone to panic attacks. To avoid him going ballistic, Harry had to keep the man dosed up on chocolate whenever possible, which he did dutifully, always preparing a delicious chocolate dessert to have after dinner every day and chocolate biscuits were kept in plentiful supply. It was a lesson he had learned while spending four-and-a-half months living with his godfather, and he had come to accept this.

Even more than all that; Sirius was _clingy_. Whenever Harry was around and doing something productive (except for household duties since Harry would snap at the man if he didn't do them), Sirius would appear and try to hug him, would glomp him while he was studying (very annoying when he'd been cramming for OWLs and the Ouran entrance exams), and try to get him to go and _do_ things.

But Harry wanted to study. His goal in life, now that he had (accidentally) killed Voldemort again was to graduate Ouran second or third in the class, since Fujioka had to maintain first, go to a Business school, be taught how to do his job as Head of several major companies – all called Potter Co. collectively – and lead a life so jammed full that he had no space in his schedule for any sort of social interaction, work himself into the ground, and eventually die old and alone.

Or young of stress-induced something-or-other. Which ever came first.

Sure, it wasn't a terribly fulfilling life, but that was how Harry wanted it. It was okay to be casual acquaintances and have the occasional business deal with the Host Club as they were right now, and it was okay if he maintained contact with Sirius, but only distantly. He had to be focused, without the requirement of deep introspective thought, and not be seen as being at all friends with anyone. He just couldn't. It was a proven fact that everyone close to Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Twice-Accidental-Slayer of Voldemort, died, and usually not in a pleasant manner.

Even if he was protecting people by not knowing them, they were safer that way.

**Author's Note: Be forewarned; I have never written romance, slash, crossovers, anything even vaguely sexual, or a lot of things in this story. It's all one big experiment, and I'm going to try my hardest to do well with it. I have also never finished a story before... but I'm trying damn hard. Really. Upon completion this story became the longest in the entire Ouran archive... so at least you know I tried.**

**As for actual notes on the chapter? Harry is an ass, sort of, but he gets better. I don't think I need to explain myself on that. He will not be participating in everything, some events will be skipped entirely without his notice, some things will only be commented upon for a moment, and others he will have some part in. He is not a Host, he is not immediately best friends with them, and he is – as the top says – a bit of an isolationist at the moment. Also, FYI, you won't actually SEE Sirius for a couple chapters yet. But he is mentioned.**

**If you know any other stories in the HP/Ouran fandom, please tell me? So far I've read three or four... and, honestly? Only one of them was any good and I'm still reserving judgment on it. I don't wanna be the only one that's not completely awful TT_TT**

(1) Tuition is scaled by family class and wealth because Hogwarts, though technically a private school, tries to get as many of the magical kids from Britain as was possible

(2) dialogue taken from chapter 1 of the manga


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is a her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 2

Over the next two weeks, Harry didn't really notice much. As routine dictated, he would go straight to the third music room straight after the last class of the day was over and sequester himself in the small side room that the Host Club had allowed him to use (on occasion he would drop by the library or something before hand). Sometimes, if the small blond (Harry learned the boy was really seventeen years old – a shocking proclamation – named Haninozuka Mitsukuni. Everyone called him "Hani") would enter in the hour before the Host Club started and invite Harry to eat cakes with him and "Takashi" (the tallest Host and Hani's cousin/protector, Morinozuka Takashi, who everyone simply called Mori). Harry always declined.

He had noticed, vaguely, when Ootori had been setting up a false Bali with his security detail in the room the Monday after "the revelation" of Fujioka's true gender. There had been a buzz about school about a "Christmas ball" thrown by the Host Club (it was April... the cherry trees were blooming for crying out loud!), and the day after the ball itself Haruhi had been seen around the apartment complex with a crutch and sprained ankle. Harry gave her a potion for the pain that he claimed would stimulate healing... in reality it healed her ankle completely, but he couldn't tell her that. He also gave her and her father some of his baked goods because chocolate made everything better (provided one listened to Remus Lupin and Sirius Black on the matter, that is).

After that a weird girl from France had joined class 1-A. Two days after that, Haruhi had yet another fangirl to deal with, but Harry wasn't really paying attention to anything going on with them much. It was far too bothersome. Instead, he continued reading from his texts. On the rare occasion that one of the Hosts would want to speak to him while he was encroaching on their space, none of them noticed that he was usually reading books on magic unless he was doing homework. Probably because they were written in English, or maybe they just didn't care to look through a Japanese-to-English dictionary to see what it said. Harry didn't care.

No, he was busier than that. If he wasn't in class studying his school subjects (he thanked Hermione's non-existent ghost for instilling good study habits in him), or in the music room studying magic (he could only practice at the apartment, sadly), then he was "at home" cooking. Usually baking, since he had to keep a steady supply of chocolate-y things for Sirius to munch on. Sometimes he made extra things, a batch of cookies or a spare cake, but eventually he recognized that all the baking was mostly a waste. He ended up donating a large quantity of cookies to a nearby Orphanage on top of the monetary donations that he had made as soon as he found out the state of the place. The neighbors all liked the sweets, too.

The business deal with the Shadow King of the Host Club went well. Harry ended up trading one hundred assorted potions per month for the right to use the side room, and while he recognized it as exorbitant, they were all potions that contained only muggle ingredients and from his private stock. It wouldn't be detrimental to his company, and he got so many potions every week to keep his cupboard stocked that the bathroom cabinet had been stretched to be larger than his own bedroom.

However, he felt that he owed something to the rest of the club as well, since he was intruding on all of them and not just the Ootori heir. Harry soon found out about Suou's fascination with all things "commoner" (it made his blood boil because, although the sentiment reminded him of Arthur Weasley – who had been decent, unlike his two youngest children – he treated "commoners" in a very condescending manner) and arranged to have a bunch of "commoner" foods and items delivered to the second Suou Mansion for him. The others, for the most part, weren't much more difficult.

Fujioka was given a platter of fresh ootoro "anonymously" one evening with two fashionable boys' outfits. The Hosts, particularly Suou and the Hitachiin Twins, were enchanted with the girl, and if they intended to take her anywhere she would almost definitely have to wear boys' clothes. She might as well look good when they did, if only to keep up her reputation.

Upon asking Ootori, he found that the Twins enjoyed games. Knowing that they wouldn't have played any that he was familiar with, if only by name, Harry sent them a bunch of board games (including six different versions of Monopoly) and a book of card games. The next time he saw them, they were playing a game of Slap Jack and adding it into their Twincest thing before class.

Perhaps the easiest to please was Hani. All Harry had to so was bake him a cake, though he decided to make it an interesting one. (Since it kept Sirius off his back for a few hours, he was extra happy.) A triple layer Devil's Food Cake with strawberry jam in between and double chocolate icing with puréed strawberries mixed in and a few on top as well made the masterpiece cake complete. He'd tried something similar in December, at Sirius' request. Harry hadn't been able to do much more than twitch for an hour after the first bite. When Hani ate the "Death By Chocolate" cake with little more reaction than a wide-eyed pause after the first bite, Harry could only stare in shock as he actually managed to eat the entire rich, chocolaty baked good.

Where the smallest Host was easy to please, it was his very-tall compatriot who Harry had no idea what to do for. All that the youngest potential heir of the Ootori empire could tell him was that Mori liked Kendo, Japanese History, Geography, and helping Hani. In the end, Harry bought a rare volume about Japanese history at an auction (which he thought was horridly convenient, since Sirius was the one to drag him there). So far as he could tell, Mori hadn't _dis_liked the gift, but he couldn't read the older boy very well.

The final gift had been a string of honey blossoms, charmed to never wilt, for Hani's Usa-chan. The Hosts continued to puzzle over how they stayed in bloom for weeks after, making up stories about how he must be going into Hani's house at night and replacing the flowers while Hani simply took it for what it was - unexplainable - and didn't bother helping with the conspiracy theories.

Since he'd made the mistake of delivering Hani's gifts during club hours, he'd gone deaf in one ear (the opposite one from the incident in September) from the sheer volume of the fangirl squeals. Apparently it was a very cute gesture for him to give the older boy a cake and giving a gift to Usa-chan as well. By the end of the day, Ootori had thanked Harry for increasing the number of customers for the day as the girls had called in other Hani-fangirls after the display.

Another few days went by with semi-minimal chaos. Apparently a pervert had broken into the school during the first year physical examinations (Harry had to have a full physical since his had been "lost" before it got to Ouran or the Ootori hospitals. In reality, he'd never had a muggle physical), but again, Harry didn't care.

The first time something happened that he really did care to notice was four days before Golden Week was to begin.

Nekozawa Umehito was from class 3-A with Mori and Hani. He was also, to most people, extremely creepy due to his love for the occult, a penchant for wearing an ominous black cloak, and his creepy cat puppet, Berezenef. Harry had dropped by the second library after class to look for a new book to read and return the one he'd most recently borrowed and was later than usual on his way to the music room. He hadn't really noticed when a figure draped in a black cloak entered the room ahead of him.

What he did notice was the semi-creepy voice that left the figure as he stood, only his head poking into the room, as well as a hand with a cat-eared puppet.

"If you like toys, please join my club," he said, voice low and almost oily. Yet Harry could hear, of all things, a hint of pleasure in the voice, almost as if he were voicing a little heart at the end of the sentence. But that was absurd; only _Suou_ did that. "Currently we're organizing the world's ancient magical artifacts exhibition. If you join us now, we will also throw in a wonderful cursed voodoo doll for you folks. We hold mass every day too." Harry stared at the back of the cloaked head that was in his way to his special study area. There were mutterings on the other side of the door before a sudden burst of light shown through.

"What's a cursed voodoo doll?" It was the Hitachiin twins then. Harry guessed this one was Kaoru, but he wasn't sure. He was slightly more interested in watching the dark boy recoiling from the concentrated beams of two flashlights that were being shown in his face (that would make _anyone_ recoil).

"What about this much light?" The other twin (Hikaru?) asked blithely. "Can you take it?" (1)

With that the twins slammed the doors shut and the figure ran into Harry, sending them both sprawling. Harry groaned, pulling out from under the other, and then helped him up as well.

"Sorry about the idiot brigade," Harry apologized in their stead before the apparently photophobic boy could run off again. The cat-doll looked rather limp in on his hand, as if it had been harmed by the light and was exhausted in some way. For some reason, Harry felt he shouldn't be too surprised if that were the case. "I'm Potter Harry, from class 1-A."

From the dark folds of the cloak, the other boy's lower face emerged, and then the upper as the unoccupied hand brushed away strands of dark hair to reveal surprisingly clear blue eyes. Eyes that had flicked up to Harry's forehead. "Nekozawa Umehito. 3-A. Would you like to join the Black Magic Club?"

Harry paused, thinking. Firstly, this person had undoubtedly heard his name before and knew of his scar. Second, this person wanted him to join a club for _black_ magic. He supposed, depending on what that actually entailed, he might reveal that he did know what the other boy was doing when he had latched his eyes to the foreigner's forehead. Momentarily grateful that muggle make-up did a wonderful job of hiding his scar and thus lending some doubt to the situation, he shrugged.

"What kind of magic are we talking here? Divination? Potions-craft? Healing, curses, Wicca, charms, befuddlement, warding..." he paused, noticing that the eerie smile had grown wider on the other boy.

"We try to dabble in everything, though one of our specialties is fortune-telling," Nekozawa admitted. "For squibs such as those in the club, there is little to be done with our paltry magicks." Harry's eyes widened. While the word came out more like "su-ku-i-bu," there was no mistaking what the older boy was saying. This muggle (squib?) knew of magic and of him.

"So we aren't talking actual Dark Arts, right? No murder, domination of free will, or pain curses?" He asked curiously.

"It is the Black Magic Club only in name, Potter-kun," Nekozawa's tone was that of someone reassuring another of intentions. The young wizard thought on it for a moment. He could at least look into it, and it wasn't like he was _desperate_ to read his latest Charms text or anything.

"Lead the way, Nekozawa-senpai," Harry nodded, "but I'm not making any promises... and if I do join I am _not_ wearing a cloak to school, especially this time of year. It must be a hundred degrees under that thing..." he paused as they started walking. "Unless you have a cooling charm under there?" There was a slight nod from the puppet, and Harry shut up. There was nothing more to be said.

After spending the day with the Black Magic Club, Harry had come to understand them, to an extent. They were all from old wizarding families, though they had too little magic to be classified as witches or wizards by actual magical people, and too much to be anything but to muggles. They were high-powered squibs, but squibs none the less. Nekozawa's family (his magic was from his mother's side) traditionally attended Durmstrang, but he was a second generation squib. The rest would have gone to various Japanese schools.

In the end, they did manage to convince Harry to join, though he declined the "cursed voodoo doll" since it was all for show and kind of creepy. He did, however, get to re-charm some things in the room for them, including an old-fashioned deck of tarot cards and some never-melt candles that were flagging, which was some pretty good practice. With the pledge to attend every Tuesday and Thursday, and accepting the invitation from Nekozawa to visit his beach-front property to help with a boggart in one of the guest room wardrobes (and visit the beach for the first time in his life) during the week long break, he went up to the third music room to finish out the last hour of the school being open to students to read.

He rather wished he hadn't. Apparently, Fujioka had sparked some argument between their year-mates with a careless comment. The pair were on separate ends of the room, turning only occasionally to glare at one another, and fangirls were watching... in increased numbers. Apparently a familial civil war was just as attention drawing as forbidden brotherly love. About five minutes into his attempted study time, Harry left in a huff, not even bothering with the train and simply going to an alley and apparating back to the flat, intent on doing something productive.

The next day was no better on the front of the Twin Hosts, as they dyed their hair outrageous colors and threw things at one another. It was around lunch that Harry realized that they were faking it, and proceeded to ignore them accordingly – Fred and George had been far different in their one fight that Harry had witnessed. They had gotten over it by the next day, and the day after that – the Friday before the break – the Host Club was closed for some reason or another.

* * *

Two days after that, Harry had packed an overnight bag for a couple of days with a spare swimsuit, some extra-strength magical sunscreen, and a few books to entertain himself with if he got bored of the beach while he was there after taking care of the boggart. He wondered what his boggart might be now. Was he still most afraid of Dementors, or would he see Sirius sprawled on the ground, soulless or worse? He had come to care, in a detached sense, for the Host Club as well. He feared what he might do if he saw Hani, innocent, precocious (older than him) Hani, dead and bleeding on the ground. Of them all, he had to admit that the small blond was his favorite – it was impossible to not like the kid. He wasn't annoying like three of the others Hosts, nor was he unreadable like Mori and Kyouya, and while Haruhi was sort of endearing in her own way, the girl was too similar to Hermione for him to want to know too much about her; it was simply too soon after the death of his only true friend.

Nekozawa picked him up a few hours after sun-up in a black Rolls Royce. While the neighbors stared in awe at the expensive car, many recoiled from the young man, drowning in black cloth, who stepped from it to greet Harry as he approached. The neighbors didn't actually know of his being rich, didn't know anything of him really, but Harry was contented with that. After Sirius had scoped out the country, Harry had decided on a location to have his Japanese home constructed - it was only an hour's drive from the flat, actually, discounting traffic - and headway was already being made.

The drive to the coast was a comfortable one. Nekozawa removed his cloak and wig for once; he and Harry talked about various things to do with magic, creatures they had encountered, and different theories they had heard of. Harry shared one of his books with the older boy, expelling the translation spell on the text so that he wouldn't have to puzzle through it slowly. He'd found interest in the magical history of Japan, and the volume _was_ interesting.

"Oh, yes," Nekozawa said after a moment, suddenly remembering something as he glanced up from the book. "Potter-kun, the Host Club will be using my beach for the next few days, and their members staying in the house. I believe they invited customers to join them as well, though they will not be staying in the house." He was grinning, obviously looking forward to creeping out Suou.

"Aa, alright," Harry nodded. "Do you want me to deal with your boggart straight off? It's not a good idea to take them on after dark anyway." At the President of his only official club's nod, Harry continued going over his Charms text, especially interested in the charms for conjuring fire and water that was usually not taught until sixth year at Hogwarts, though an exception had been made for the simplest water charm.

Having never been to a beach and only seen it in postcards, Harry had no idea what he should actually expect. He knew a beach in Japan would be different than the one on Aunt Marge's postcard from Majorca, and that those picturesque scenes were probably one-in-a-million given the notorious temper of the sea and the unpredictability of weather on the shore, but it must have been a one-in-a-million day. The sun was shining on the scene with a vengeance, causing the water to sparkle. The sand was a beautiful golden color that he had never actually associated with sand, and there seemed to already be a crowd of girls and the Host Club present; the only odd thing was the giant cat-shaped cliff and cave.

"I'm definitely coming out here," Harry grinned when they left the car, reveling in the sweet, salty scent of the ocean as a slight wind blew in his face. "C'mon Nekozawa-senpai, I'll take care of that boggart now... just make sure you have some chocolate on hand, okay? I'm not entirely sure, but last time I went up against one it turned into a dementor. Just in case." The creepy senior's personal servants were already moving into the castle-like manor, likely going to take care of that request. Hopefully it wouldn't be too dark of a chocolate.

Harry was led up a staircase and into a bedroom, where he noticed his overnight bag already rested. Mildly surprised, he turned to Nekozawa, who indicated the wardrobe that was set against the wall before leaving the room. While numbers were advantageous, even a particularly slow boggart wouldn't be stupid enough to mix up a dementor and bright light together.

With one last look at the sun that shone merrily through the tall windows of Harry's designated room, he turned his full attention to the wardrobe and flicked his wand at it, allowing it to open slowly.

The effect was instantaneous. Suddenly, he was too hot, and something was drawing him into the half-open doors of the wardrobe. Harry's eyes widened. It was preying on his claustrophobia! Screwing his eyes shut and holding his wand in front of him, Harry concentrated. How could he make this funny? He could he laugh when he heard his Uncle's voice echoing in his ears, feel the encroaching closeness of his cupboard and the stuffy heat of air in a tiny room that stood right above the boiler?

Glaring suddenly at the opening, Harry shouted, "_Riddikulus!_" as loudly as he could. Instantly, the room became spacious again, the air cool, and the walls were padded with something white. At first Harry could only chuckle, but he was soon laughing hysterically until a loud pop sounded and filled the room with a thin, waspish smoke. He staggered to the window and opened it, filling the room with the scent of the sea, changed into his swim wear – black trunks with a silver and blue long-sleeve swim-shirt – and left the room to tell Nekozawa that the room was boggart-free.

The sand was hot between his toes and the air cool and damp in his lungs. The sun beat down on his skin – protected by "SPFmagic" brand sunscreen (a special brand marketed mostly for vampires) thankfully – and he could hear the sound of waves lapping against the coast. It was an amazing sound, but very broken. Nekozawa hadn't been lying when he said that the Hosts had brought some of their customers; it looked like all the regulars had come and brought friends. Sighing, Harry dropped his bag five feet out from the high-tide line and observed for a moment.

Suou was sitting on a rock with a blanket spread beneath him, romancing a girl Harry vaguely recognized as one of the boy's regulars. The Hitachiin twins were playing a game involving a net and a ball – Harry was pretty sure it was volleyball, but he wasn't sure. His primary P.E classes hadn't played, and he'd never had the opportunity, but he was pretty sure that was right. A lot of their regulars were playing, and a few other girls. Hani and Mori seemed to be entertaining a small cluster of girls, Ootori looked to be managing the time girls spent with the "King," and Fujioka was crouched on the ground, simply observing the goings on so far as Harry could tell.

"Hey, Harry-kun!" Harry turned to see one of the twins – he guessed Kaoru – waving him over at him. "What're you doing here?"

"I was invited," he stated simply. He glanced over at the other twin – Hikaru? – and looked back to the one who was approaching. "Are you sure you should leave Hikaru-san alone? From what I've seen, he might go overboard with something." Then Harry noticed that the volley ball (he assumed he was right) was resting by his feet and picked it up, pitching it back to the wayward twin. "You almost lost that one to the ocean, you know." Then Harry plopped down on the sand and reclined.

"You're supposed to lay a towel down on the sand when you do that," the twin snorted. From a short distance, he heard the second twin shouting "Hurry it up, Kaoru!" and Harry had the urge to smirk though he restrained it, instead giving himself a mental pat on the back. He was officially right when it came to which twin was which seventy percent of the time.

Kaoru, however, had not moved back and was instead leaning over Harry and blocking the sun. The wizard glared in a fashion that promised death, but the redhead was unaffected by the malevolence. He'd probably been around himself to often. As pounding footsteps came closer – Harry glanced to see Hikaru jogging over – Kaoru continued to study him before nodding sagely.

"You aren't short anymore, Harry-kun," he declared as his twin drew even with him. A scowl was added to the glare.

He'd been on nutrient supplements since his release from St. Mungo's in November, first to make his body healthy and deal with some health issues that he'd had, including mild lead and asbestos poisoning from his cupboard. Since about a week after starting at Ouran he'd been taking a potion that stimulated his body to produce growth hormone, though it hadn't kicked in until a week or so later. Not only was he _finally_ over 5'1", but he'd grown four inches in the past month. Sadly, that was all the artificial growth he was allowed, or else his body wouldn't grow normally at all, but at least he wasn't a midget anymore and could pass for being fifteen.

"I think you're customers are waiting for the brotherly love," Harry snapped. Being short was still a bit of a sore point for him. "Now leave me be. I'm trying to _enjoy_ my first trip to the beach; I believe part of the experience is lounging."

The twins laughed at him, but then Hikaru turned to his brother and put on some theatrics in a loud enough voice that the girls at the volleyball net about "how could he _possibly_ ignore his brother for the other boy?" which set the girls to squealing. At the very least, Harry could be relieved that the girls weren't spending the night at Nekozawa's place; he doubted he'd be able to sleep for all the fangirlishness.

_Idiots_, Harry thought in a resigned manner as he watched from the corner of his eye. The twins met up with Suou, and they all seemed to be spying on Fujioka. Though the girl was only barely in his range of vision – he had discarded his glasses for contacts so he wouldn't lose them in the ocean – he noted that she was surrounded by girls who were no doubt starry eyed. It was pretty much expected for the Host Club's "Natural" type to charm girls without trying, even if she was secretly a girl herself.

Closing his eyes, Harry decided that having a nap before lunch sounded good... then maybe another nap... and he could go into the water sometime before dinner, though he would be careful about heading in too deep. It was a miracle he could stay afloat in the Prefect's bath (he'd been flailing then), and the lake at school had been worse. Both were quite tame compared to the force of the ocean, and swimming in it wouldn't be fun, especially without gillyweed and considering he didn't know how to swim.

The shriek of terror from Suou automatically put a damper on those plans as Harry levered himself back into a sitting position to glare in the blond's general direction. His vision was spotted with a vicious red-orange from seeing the sun through his eyelids, and it occurred to him that he probably shouldn't attempt to nap with contacts in, but Harry didn't much care right then. He lurched to his feet, marched the twenty paces to Suou, and glared at him huffily. Nekozawa was standing with Bereznoff, hiding under not only his cloak, but a black parasol as well.

Suou and the Twins were not looking his way however, as Nekozawa had pointed their attention to the cat rock. They all screamed "Haruhi!" and began running; Harry wondered how she had gotten into the cave mouth so quickly when he had only seen her a few minutes ago entertaining some of her regulars at the shoreline. Not that he really cared as her self-appointed worry-warts darted forward and "rescued" her from her mostly-safe position on the lower ledge.

"Great, first Suou-senpai surprises me _right_ before I was going to fall asleep, and then he runs off before I can get payback," Harry scowled before turning to his club president with a sigh. "Couldn't you have picked a better time to scare him? I was all ready to have a nice nap."

"My apologies, Potter-kun," Nekozawa didn't _seem_ terribly sorry as he said this, "but it was an opportune moment." Harry rolled his eyes and nodded, sighing. "You left before I could ask; how did the boggart go?"

"It... could have been worse," the younger of the pair admitted. "It wasn't a dementor this time, so I guess after all my encounters with them I must have finally gotten over that, but I'll admit I hadn't figured it capable of morphing into what it did. But it was easier, I think. It's a lot harder to laugh off a dementor." Nekozawa nodded from his safe shadowed spot. "You know, I brought the sunblock that vampire's use, if you want to come out from there. You'd be perfectly safe, and you'd surely scare Suou even more if he saw you without the get-up."

Nekozawa merely glared at him, blue eyes staring unblinkingly into deep green. Harry laughed at him before giving his farewell and wandering back to his bag. He _really_ wanted that nap.

**Author's Note: I'm trying to pack the series into a proper year, which is pretty difficult. Sacrifices to reality must be made.**

**I rather figured that Britain would be really stringent about magic, but Japan more lenient. Harry can perform magic, apparate, and whatnot, since he knows the risks, but cannot reveal magic to those who don't know without paying a 100 galleon fine (there is also the option of paying for said muggle to be obliviated).**

**Harry was a malnourished child, skinny and undoubtedly short. It would take time to get him to the point where forced growth wouldn't be harmful. I figured a few months would do it... and then I realized how that fit into the timeline, and it stuck. Therefore, he was still midgety before starting at Ouran, but he's sprouted up a few inches since then and is now only a bit below average height (in the States, I dunno about world-wide) for a girl. He will grow another inch or two, though it isn't much remarked upon.**

(1) Dialogue taken from chapter five of the manga


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, evtual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter. Filler chapter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is a her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 3

Golden week was over, and school was back in session. The end of Harry's time at the beach had been better than the start, as the Host Club only visited the one night and he was there for two days. With the Hosts present, everything had been too chaotic as Fujioka showed off her lack of understanding regarding basic human emotion. While her club-mates had apparently been trying to spook her (Mori with a harpoon had been a dead giveaway), she had run off to help some girls who were being harassed only to fall off the cliff and not even bothering to thank Suou for saving her, or apologize for making everyone worry.

Dinner that night had been quite the affair as well as she and the King held a small food-war, and Nekozawa couldn't even use his own dining room because she had turned the lights back on. Harry had left to keep him company after deciding that he didn't like crab, but then the hosts had appeared and saw the Black Magic President without his black garb and wig. Harry had barely saved the third year from being questioned to death. Both had been glad when the Hosts left the next day before Harry could hex them all... though it would have been worth the 100 galleon fine per hexed-muggle (who would have, by consequence, indoctrinated into the magical world, and would have Harry cost yet another 100 galleons for revealing the magical world to them).

In all honesty, the rest of that week had gone well, and even the week after, when they were back at school. However, Mondays were special. Harry should have remembered that from the old cartoon about a fat cat that Dudley used to watch; Mondays were bad.

It had started off simply enough. Fujioka was running late from the library, with only twenty minutes until the Host club started and she still had to pick up "commoner food" for Suou. Harry had offered to go in her stead lest the Shadow King increase her debt. Buying the food was easy, too, as he went to the supermarket often.

It was, however, after he had apparated back to school grounds (behind a building of course), that anything happened. He bumped into someone. This someone was a surprising tall woman in a very-much-men's suit with the Ouran crest on its chest. He apologized of course, picking of the groceries and chivalrously taking on the blame (it was his to take after all, as he'd been day dreaming), yet the girl just _glared_ at him.

"I'm really sorry, ma'am," Harry apologized again as he stood up properly and bowed. "My head was in the clouds, you see, and I'm terribly sorry. I didn't hurt you, did I? I wouldn't want my clumsiness to be the fault of anyone getting hurt."

"Aren't _you_ full of yourself?" The woman snorted, looking down at Harry. A feminist. She started ranting at him about female beauty and how men were all pigs or something... he wasn't really paying attention.

"As I said, I _am_ sorry that I bumped into you, and I hope I haven't made you run late or harmed you in any manner," Harry repeated, slightly miffed, "however now _I'm_ running a tad late, so I will be leaving. Have a nice day." With that, Harry walked passed the cross-dresser and went inside. He just wanted to study! Why was it that oddity always followed him?

The next day, he was scarred for life at seeing half of the host club cross-dressing... Harry never wanted to see those annoying twins in dresses ever again. It was only by luck that he didn't have to see Suou in a dress as well (the man acted girly enough as it was; he wasn't sure if he could stand the horror for very long). Having come only to grab something he'd forgotten the day before, he left swiftly, twitching, and wondering how they set up in five minutes between class letting out and him getting there. He dared not inquire.

On Thursday, Harry arrived at the Black Magic Clubroom (also known as the Third Chemistry Room with dark room function), speaking about the pros and cons of love spells and potions with Kanazuki Reiko from 1-D (the girl who had told him where his classroom was the first day) to find a surprise perched on a tree outside the window. Said surprise hooted at him just as he was going to turn the knob of the door to enter.

"Hedwig! What're you doing here?" She was supposed to be staying at the apartment, though she was let out at night to stretch her wings... well, they didn't really keep her inside, but she didn't go out during daylight hours usually unless Sirius was being overbearing. Harry held out his arm to the snowy owl as she flew through the open window and landed gracefully, hooting again before she moved to his shoulder and nipped his ear. "Was Sirius being weird again? You know I'm sorry about him, but the chocolate makes him crazy." He stroked her smooth feathers while she hooted reprovingly at him.

Footsteps pounded the hallway, which wasn't too odd considering it was hardly more than ten minutes after class and one of the art clubs met down the hall. Painting, he thought. Not giving it a second thought, Harry continued patting Hedwig, allowing Kanazuki to gently caress the bird on his arm.

"Kanazuki-san, this is Hedwig, my owl. And the most beautiful owl ever, aren't you girl?" Harry smiled happily at the bird. She hadn't visited him at school until then, and because of his constantly avoiding Sirius – since the man always returned home either at seven pm, five minutes after Harry did, or sometime in the middle of the night while smashed; usually the middle option and then the third after leaving again – he didn't get to spend as much time with her as he liked.

The footsteps turned the corner just as he was going to pet her again, and Hedwig took that moment to take off... in the direction of whoever it was that had come running around the bend. They – he, actually, Harry realized – let out a manly shriek of surprise as the flying mass of white feathers moved on and, to Harry's great surprise, landed on the panting and rather confused looking student.

There was a vague familiarity about him that Harry associated with people he saw from time to time around the halls without really processing their appearance. He was tall, though not Mori-tall, but still tall, with long hair in a sort of crimson-red down below his chin with half of it in a pony-tail and harsh features. The boy's face was slightly flushed from exertion as he straightened himself carefully, trying not to jostle the bird that had latched onto his shoulder. Harry wanted very much to face-palm at Hedwig's forwardness regarding the stranger, but decided against it. If she liked him, there was no keeping the bird from visiting if she so desired.

"Oh, sorry about her," Harry apologized quickly. He had no idea who the guy was; what if he was afraid of owls and was heir to a company that did business with one of Harry's? That wouldn't make a good rep for him, certainly. "She isn't bothering you, is she?"

"N-no," the boy breathed, seeming to glance speculatively between Harry and Hedwig. "Eto... is it... she...?

"Hedwig," Harry informed the boy. "She's mine, but if she takes a shine to someone then there's no stopping her. Be careful about jostling her though; fixing marks from her talons is practically impossible, especially with suits like our uniforms, and I don't know how the shoulder-pads will take it." He paused, turning to Kanazuki. "Kanazuki-san, you go in ahead. I think I'll skip out on today's meeting; I've been neglecting Hedwig lately, and you know how Bereznoff feels about birds. Tell Nekozawa-senpai I'm sorry, will you?" She nodded, face set in her usual neutral expression and entered the dark room without looking back. Sometimes Harry had the feeling she really disliked him.

The crimson-haired boy just sort of stared at him for a moment, then at Hedwig – who he'd been unconsciously petting – and back to Harry. Then he glanced at the door Kanazuki had gone through and back at Harry.

"You... are in the Black Magic Club," he said after a moment. A statement. Harry nodded, reaching up to scratch Hedwig below the beak to earn a hoot of approval. The boy was terribly awkward, it seemed. While Harry didn't intend to be a social butterfly, Hedwig apparently was, and Harry had to support her choice in friends.

"Potter Harry," He informed the boy, "of class 1-A. Just moved here from England in late February. Heir to the seven collective Potter Companies." He said heir, but it was easier to say that than the truth.

The boy looked at him again before nodding. "Kasanoda Ritsu," He murmured, turning his face away, "1-D... fourth generation of the Kasanoda-gumi." Harry had heard about there being a yakuza heir in his year... not that he could completely remember what yakuza _was_, but he thought it was something like the mafia, only more... large-scale. Not that it really mattered.

"Well, that's kind of cool," he nodded sagely, removing his hand from Hedwig to stand a slightly more respectful distance from her perch. "Hedwig likes you, so you're obviously a good sort." Harry received a glare in answer... and he would admit that the look was scary. Or, it would have been had he never known Snape. "I've seen scarier."

The glare stopped, and Kasanoda stared at Harry until Hedwig nipped at his ear. He jumped about a mile, which caused Hedwig to dig in her claws and tear his suit. Harry just laughed.

"So, where were you going to in such a hurry? I'm sorry if we've held you up at all," he really didn't laugh much anymore or smile quite so wide as he was, even with Sirius living with him (the man's pranks now served more to aggravate him, especially in their small apartment), so his cheeks ached far too much, but he continued on as if nothing was out of the ordinary. It was a skill well cultivated, after a lot of experience ignoring the uncomfortable.

"I... was coming up here," murmured Kasanoda. "The owl – He-do-u-i-gu? Hedwig – came to me while I was outside waiting for my driver. Then she suddenly took off and went into the building. I didn't want her to get hurt."

Harry nodded in an understanding manner and continued drawing the taller boy into conversation until he had loosened up a bit and they had walked down to the ground floor where there was a car waiting for him. Hedwig hopped off of his shoulder and glided to Harry's upraised arm, and he was gone. Not that Harry particularly cared.

* * *

The next day everyone was talking about Halloween. _It's mid-May, you idiots_, he thought to himself as everyone got into the Halloween spirit for the day. He went straight home that afternoon instead of dealing with the Hosts and managed to rope Sirius into doing something _normal_ for once. He also learned how to play what Sirius called "Egyptian Rat Screw" while Harry called it "Glorified Slap Jack."

In fact, everything seemed to be going peachy until the next day... not that anything _bad_ happened, per se, but it was still kind of annoying.

He had put some cookies and other sweets that he'd made the day before in a Tupperware container to bring to Fujioka as thanks for letting him borrow flour. Normally he wouldn't have had to, but Sirius had already gone out for the night (said something about an "okama bar" whatever that was) and the area around the nearest super marker was too crowded for him to apparate. The fact that he had to be back in five minutes to take a cake out of the oven didn't help either, or that the batter he made would be inedible in ten minutes unless he wanted to get salmonella poisoning or pass it on to whoever ate that batch.

So he walked down to Fujioka's flat and knocked on the door. It was oddly loud, and he thought, for a moment, that he could hear the other hosts making a racket... but surely that wasn't true? She didn't seem the type to let them over no matter what. But he was proven wrong when she opened the door and he could see that they were all sitting at her table eating cakes (no doubt brought by Hani).

"Good morning Fujioka-san," he nodded to her and glanced at the Hosts, "everyone else." He waved. They waved back. "Just wanted to thank you for letting me borrow that flour yesterday; I brought these for you and your father. I know you liked the strawberry ones especially, and since your dad liked the chocolate cookies I added some extra in for him too." He was about to step back from the door, but Hani had come to the door, giving him a calculating look. "Yes, Hani-senpai?"

"Harry-chan," he asked, "why would you borrow flour from Haru-chan?" From the way he was looking at the younger boy, it was obvious that he was suddenly seeing Harry in a whole new light.

"I was baking and I overestimated how much flour I had left," he shrugged. "If I had gone to the store, my dough would have gone bad by the time I was back, and I only needed a cup." Harry looked at Hani curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Does that mean you baked the cake you gave me?" The senior's eyes were wide. Harry furrowed his brow and nodded. He'd thought that Hani knew that at the time, but the starry look in his eyes said otherwise. "Really?"

"Yes," he nodded again. "I can make you another if you like; I do a lot of baking." With the promise sealed (pinky-swear style at that), Harry went back up to his flat to enjoy a bit of time sans Sirius and get some studying in.

Unbeknownst to our reluctant hero (though what hero-ing he'll actually do, if any, is unknown, but that's just a technicality), the Host club was talking to him behind his back after he left.

"Haruhiiii," Suou Tamaki whined, "why did Potter know where you live before we did?" He had his best kicked-puppy look on, but Haruhi seemed unfazed. He pushed harder into the look, but still no reaction beyond her rolling her eyes. "Is he stalking my precious daughter? I won't stand to let that horrible scoundrel get away with – !"

"He lives upstairs," Kyouya volunteered the information with ease as he ate a bite of the cake Hani had decided on for him. Tamaki and the twins looked at him and Haruhi furrowed her brows, opening her mouth to ask. He cut her off. "To properly do business I had to know his mailing address. The fact that I didn't mention that it didn't have to be his place of residence but could be the address of his company or one of his houses internationally, of course, was disregarded at the time. Apparently his home in Japan is still being built."

This made no sense to most of the rich people, that he would live in a small apartment instead of a hotel or renting a house somewhere in the country while his home was being built, but they let it slide and conversation went back to the usual until Tamaki started begging for lunch. They were all leaving when a man and a woman entered the flat... except the woman was actually a man too, and Haruhi's father at that.

They arrived to see Tamaki and Haruhi in a compromising situation. While the man who was obviously a man burst out laughing, dark gray eyes streaming tears, the cross-dresser plowed into the room. The man-man was none other than Harry's godfather, Sirius Black. Standing at just under six feet in height and with a healthy tan, he had been and was once again (now he'd cleaned up some) a heartthrob... well, for being thirty six anyway. Oddly, out of he and Harry, Sirius was the one who got out most, despite the fact that he was still a wanted criminal (the fact that he had been tried by the Japanese and Irish governments and been cleared didn't seem to be enough for the Brits). He quit laughing eventually, brushing his black locks from his face, until the Hitachiin twins walked in and started walking on the back of their "King."

"Who are you calling a molester!" Tamaki roared, seeming to ignore the sniggering Sirius in the background. "I honestly... I honestly consider your daughter as my own daughter!" (1)

Sirius giggled again and stood from his position on the floor where he'd been rolling around. In all honesty, he was very slightly tipsy and had had far too much chocolate for an ordinary person, but this was Sirius after all. He grinned at the cross-dresser he had walked in with.

"Ranka-san," he snickered, "your daughter has some _weird_ friends. I think I'll go bug Harry for now, though. Bye!" He waved jauntily and left the flat, still laughing at the display. They had definitely been attractive boys though. If only Harry hung out with guys like that... not that the kid hung out with _anyone_, but still. He sighed and wondered if he should have a slice of cake or eat ice cream... or maybe have some of the cookies Harry made the day before. They were his favorite after all.

By the time he'd gone the twenty steps it took to get from the door of the Fujioka's home to the flat he and Harry shared, he'd already forgotten about the encounter entirely, more focused on not becoming depressed.

Harry was amazed that three weeks had managed to go by so quickly and with so little actually happening. He'd managed to study whenever he wanted – Sirius had made friends with Fujioka's father apparently – and things were going swimmingly at the Black Magic Club. Having given in to temptation that day, and not feeling like reading the book on animate-to-animate transfiguration theory that he had brought with him to school that day (it was a very dry read), he had donned his invisibility cloak and was sitting in a window, watching the Host Club.

He wasn't disappointed by the show either (even though they seemed to think Valentines Day was in early June), as he had been looking over at Hani and Mori's table for a while when Hani cried out in pain upon biting into a piece of cake. The scene after made him blush as Mori tackled the smaller boy. Harry had almost squealed with the girls, but he kept it to a surprised blush.

Quickly sneaking away, Harry shoved his Cloak back in his bag and entered the room, already pulling out some potions that he usually only had to use for Sirius since the man ate ungodly amounts of sugar. Ignoring Suou as he was about to start declaring something or other – he didn't really care – Harry knelt beside the older boy.

"Here, Hani-senpai," he offered the first phial, which he had unstoppered carefully. "This one is a pain killer; it should work in a few seconds and it tastes sweet, okay? This one will help with your cavity. It works miracles, I promise." Hani downed the first phial eagerly, and Harry vaguely noted that it sounded like Suou had shut up, but he really didn't care. He'd heard the words "prohibited from sweets," which was hardly fair, he felt. It was a _cavity_ for crying out loud. Besides, he had so many of these at home that they could last a dentist a year.

"That doesn't change –" Suou declared but Harry stood up from his space as Hani downed the second potion quickly.

"Suou-senpai," Harry rolled his eyes at the blond's theatrics. "He's fine. The medicine I just gave him is a new Potter-Evans specialty. His tooth should be fine in an hour or so." He was being stared at with awe by Hani, but he ignored it. It was slightly harder to ignore everyone else's dumbfounded looks. "I'm going to go back to studying now. Have fun doing... whatever it is you guys actually do."

Harry skipped Black Magic Club on Tuesday to sit in and watch the Host Club from beneath his cloak. He saw the pained expression on Mori's face that became apparent whenever Hani thanked the first year for the cavity remedy (only Ootori knew that it wasn't in circulation, but the older boy didn't advertise it on his behalf either). Not that he had any clue why, but he had a feeling it was guilt.

On Thursday, he managed to apparate from the bathroom into the music room before anyone arrived – though it appeared that someone had delivered a truck load of roses – and he brought from his bag the sweets he had made for each of the hosts. They wouldn't know, of course, but he took pride in that, actually. He left a platters of cookies for most people, though Hani get a couple batches of cupcakes, mostly strawberry topped. If Mori got more than anyone else, he wouldn't mention it, and they would never know.

With a spring in his step, Harry left and headed to his club thing for the day, wondering if it would be at all weird to give Valentines sweets to them. Maybe it was because he felt oddly lighthearted for a fake Valentines Day (he'd never gotten to celebrate it before, unless one counted being tackled by a dwarf in costume as "celebrating," so it was a highly novel experience even if it wasn't the _real_ day), but he giggled at the thought of Nekozawa wearing a pink rose on his cloak or something. It was a very ridiculous idea, so far as he was concerned.

**Author's Note: Thanks to FlitShadowFlame for reminding me of the name of the week off (Golden Week). Nice gesture on her part.**

**Brought in Kasanoda early... but I like him, and I can imagine Hedwig liking him... and she's still around because Harry sent her to Sirius with a letter a few days before going to Hogwarts (thus the Death Eater incident), and so was not in the car at the time. And his other stuff was rescued too, minutes after he was kidnapped while they were trying to track the apparation to find him. Didn't bother to mention it before, but I figure someone would ask.**

**I could do all the Jap-fangirl inclusion crap. I could call England "Igirisu" and Japanese people "Nihonjin." I could change the spelling of Harry's name and add all that "ohayo," "kurabu," "onegai" stuff, call March "sangatsu," etc. Heck, I'd like to think I can do a lot more than the average fangirl, considering I've actually taken a Japanese course. But I'm not going to, because even though, yeah, people do sometimes say words out of their language in conversation, it wouldn't make sense to just start tossing in words in-language like that. Excuse me for making sense. Please. I'm keeping the honorifics and certain titles though.**

(1) Quoted from chapter 13 of the manga


	4. Chapter 4

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, spoilers, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 4

He had picked that particular ring-tone because it was the least annoying of them all. A simple sonar 'ping' noise that didn't annoy people when it went off... except that it was annoying the hell out of him right then.

Flipping the phone open, Harry pressed it against the side of his face, snarling into the mouthpiece, "who the bloody hell had the bright idea to call at this ungodly hour?!" It was ten in the morning. Harry had gone to bed one hour before, and was not happy.

"It's nice to talk to you too, Potter-kun," the voice of the youngest Ootori drifted into his ear, sounding equally agitated, if not more so. "Tamaki woke me up an hour ago; you got off easy." Not bloody likely. Harry had been going to _sleep_ an hour earlier. It probably would be easier to take the call then. "He wants me to invite you to a special 'Rescue Haruhi' party." That woke Harry up faster than the first time Sirius had dumped ice-cold water on him (he never did again).

"Fujioka-san is in trouble?" He was in full Hero Mode, his complex coming into play as soon as he heard the word "rescue." He knew the girl had been hired by one of the men from the okama bar that her father worked at, mostly because Sirius had been frequenting it since he made friends with Ranka and tended to be a very chatty drunk. In Karuizawa, he thought. "Where and when do I meet you lot?"

"We're leaving in half an hour from the second Suou Mansion," Ootori informed him, "I can have directions wired to you."

"No need, just give me the coordinates. Longitude and latitude, elevation if you know it," Harry was already getting dressed, ready to go rescue Fujioka from whatever it was that had caught her. He paused to commit the coordinates to memory before packing a backpack with things he would undoubtedly need, from potions to some inventions of Fred and George's that they had insisted on giving him before he vanished from England. "Right, see you soon."

After triple checking his bag and deciding to toss in some clean clothes since, depending on the situation, they might be needed (in that, if Fujioka was in _that_ kind of trouble, she might need to cover up), Harry sent Sirius a quick text message saying simply, "Rescue mission. Be back soon." After verifying that the message had been sent, he apparated approximately twelve minutes walking distance from the given coordinates in the direction of his apartment building and arrived ten minutes early on the dot. The rest of the Host Club was already waiting for him, with Suou bouncing around in an excited (and only semi-panicked) manner, the twins looking rather bored, Hani eating cake with his silent guardian standing by, and Ootori seeming both annoying and amused.

And Harry knew right then that Fujioka was _not_ in the sort of danger he imagined and that Suou was probably being an idiot, as usual. He quickly regretted having come, and made a mental note to ask the other second-year to be clearer when dealing with a half-asleep Harry.

"You're mean," he informed Ootori while looking at the others and the helicopter behind them. "You purposefully made me think she was in trouble, didn't you? I bet Suou was just pouting because he didn't know she was out of town for vacation." He glared at the hyper blond. "Why did you call me over?"

Apparently the twins decided to answer as they sidled up next to him in a way similar to what they usually did to Fujioka, though not quite so intimate. If they had, he would have turned them purple; screw secrecy! "Well, _Harry-kun_," they began in unison. Harry was very much reminded of the boys who had invented half the things in his bag – all of which were now superfluous. "You're too uptight. It's summer, and you've probably only been studying the past two days."

"I spent all of the past two days since vacation started doing paperwork and went to sleep for the first time in fifty-six hours an hour before Ootori-senpai called," Harry snapped in response, angry at his loss of sleep. Unfortunately, the adrenaline that pumped into him when he thought someone was in actual danger had woken him up fully and he probably wouldn't be able to get to sleep for twelve hours. A sleepy Harry was a snappish Harry, and no amount of perk-me-up potions was going to change that until he hibernated for a good three days. "I'm _supposed_ to spend this time working on a new deal to sell a supply of that cavity cure I gave Hani-senpai to the Ootori Company. I thought there was a literal _need_ for me to be awake and here at this ungodly hour." He didn't mention that it was almost ten-thirty which was considered by most people rather late to sleep in.

"I'm sure I can help with the deal, Potter-kun," Ootori had a smirk that Harry translated to mean that he was glad that A) he wasn't going to be the only sane one on the trip (except perhaps Mori, but one never knew with him) B) someone else was being tortured by the Club members and C) he could earn brownie points with his father by orchestrating the deal... not that Ootori Yoshio gave brownie points, but it was close enough.

And somehow, with that one statement, Harry was on the helicopter before he could even think to protest being man-handled by the twins. Shoved into a seat by the window while Ootori took the other one across from him ("Neither of us are willing participants, per se, therefore we should get the window seats," had been the older boy's argument), Harry decided to work on his glare, which seemed to suitably cow the twins. They were sitting on the bench next to him with Mori on the end; across from the silent senior was Hani, and between Hani and Ootori was Suou.

His glare shifted to the ground as it fell away, and soon the Hosts were acting much as if he weren't there at all, which he shouldn't have been. The scenery seemed to float by slowly, obscured on occasion by a low cloud but otherwise looking like standard earth. He caught a shimmer in his vision here and there of warded area, but otherwise it seemed terribly normal.

And unnatural.

The world crawled by at a snail's pace, unaffected by his moods and opinions. This was nothing compared to _real _flying; the wind wasn't whipping his hair, he had no control, no Firebolt ready to turn at his every whim, no death defying stunts to pump adrenaline through his veins. It was all so... _safe_. So _boring_.

Harry hadn't been flying for months, not since February, when he was still in Ireland, a few hours before the flight to Japan. Maybe that was why he'd been bored lately? He couldn't concentrate much recently, even with his usual wit-sharpening potions that the company supplied him with every month; he had gone from studying after school in the side room of the music room to hiding under his invisibility cloak and people watching instead. He'd not been without the Firebolt for so long in... well, only a few months before that, but the idea still had merit. The annoying _whirring_ noise, the "thwup-thwup-thwup" of the helicopter blades whizzing through the air didn't give it any points on the "good way to travel" meter either.

These thoughts, coupled with the circumstances, had made him rather cross, even beyond him being a snappish, sleepy version of his usual self. What was the point in this beyond torture? He was _not_ enjoying himself, nor would he (despite this being the supposed reason the twins suggested to their "King" that he be invited to come along), and Fujioka would neither approve nor appreciate the effort, let alone the _helicopter_. He figured she could deal with a limousine by then, since the club had taken to kidnapping her, but it was a freaking _helicopter_.

The glare shifted to the boy sitting across from him. "Well?" Harry asked, eyeing the other boy, who matched him gaze for gaze. "I don't see how you can condone all," he gestured in a manner that was simultaneously wide and restrained, "_this_. The needless spending and having to deal with _them_," he gestured in particular to the twins and Suou, since they seemed to be plotting, "when they go on a misguided quest like this? It hardly seems your style. I realize it's probably Suou-senpai's expense, but I hardly see the sense behind going along with them and aiding in their _kidnapping_ me from your perspective. Unless, of course, you _like_ torturing me."

"Nonsense, Potter-kun," Ootori had one of those smiles that may or may not be malevolent on his face; it was impossible to tell with the sunlight refracting off of his lenses, "it's bad business sense to go about _torturing_ the head of a prestigious supply company." Harry noted, dully, that the Ootori had addressed him as the _head_ rather than _heir_ to the company as he had before. He'd done his homework then.

"You just torture Fujioka-san then," Harry snorted, continuing to glare at the other. "Still doesn't excuse you for making me think she was in actual trouble. Work on your phrasing next time Ootori; when lives are on the line, I get serious, and tricking me like that is just crying wolf. How do I know if, next time you call and open with asking me to go on a rescue mission, no matter how sarcastically you say it, that it won't just be a misadventure like this, huh?"

He was certain that the twin next to him had quit plotting, but Harry didn't care much. All he wanted right then was an answer from Ootori. He could easily blame his hero-complex that had been so easily cultivated by the Hogwarts Headmaster and Ron's combined efforts, but he really had been worried and ready to risk life and limb to save the Host Club's princess. What if the Death Eaters had finally grown brains and found his name on the list of people who flew to Tokyo at the end of February? What if they had spied on him and found out that he spent even a modicum of time around these people? He would give himself up to save anyone, even some random muggle he'd never met, probably, and he didn't like thinking he was entering those kinds of situations. It wasn't fun.

"My apologies, Potter-kun," Ootori pushed his glasses up his nose, something Harry had noticed over his days of people watching as his main nervous tick (beyond tilting his head just the right way so that his eyes were obscured by sunlight). "I didn't realize that you would take the comment so seriously at the time... nor did I take into account your apparent liking of Haruhi." Everything in the helicopter stopped for a split second while Harry puzzled out what was being insinuated before he mouthed a silent "oh!"

"Er, you've got it all wrong on that one," he shrugged, anger dissipating as he fought not to laugh, "I don't care for Fujioka-san in the way you're implying, I can assure you. I'm gay." Well, that wasn't the entire truth. He had liked Cho after all; he just decided he liked guys more. But he didn't tell them that.

That comment seemed to make the rest of the trip decidedly awkward, at least for the twins. Harry doubted that they had realized at all that their occasional taunting had been directed at someone who might be genuinely interested. Hikaru especially seemed antsy (or he thought it was Hikaru; he wasn't really sure, as usual), though he was sitting on Kaoru's other side (if he had them right). Harry was very much tempted to laugh at them, but instead exchanged text messages with Sirius to inform him that he had been rudely kidnapped and would try to get home as soon as possible, but if not he would try to come home with souvenirs, maybe the heads of his captors. Sirius just asked him to say hello to Ootori (he said Kyouya) on his behalf. He did.

The landing was a lot louder that Harry would have liked. Probably because Suou and the twins started screaming out of the door (which Suou had thrown open in a dramatic fashion) at the girl they had come to rescue (in other words, torment). Upon landing, the Hosts piled out of the metal monstrosity, most going to glomp Fujioka in some way, while the three calmer people in the helicopter filed out. They were at a bed and breakfast, and Harry was very much contemplating just going in and renting a room for the day. He was _sure_ he'd brought a dreamless sleep potion. It wasn't healthy, but it would rejuvenate him enough to apparate home at least.

Once freed, Fujioka had glanced at him. Harry mouthed "kidnapped" in an exaggerated manner, gaining a nod from the girl (who was wearing clothes befitting her gender for once). He wasn't sure who instigated the movement to inside the building, but Harry followed regardless, taking in the classy, yet homey feel of the place. It was nice.

"Wow! What a cute batch of boys!" A woman – no, man dressed as a woman – squealed in delight as they entered. "Are you all Haruhi's friends?" Before Harry could protest – 'friend' was a term too dangerous to be applied by him – the apparent owner of the establishment, and Fujioka's employer at that, continued, introducing her(him)self as Sonoda Misuzu, who was really named Isao, and to call him Misuzu-chi. Harry mostly ignored the conversation for a while (though he caught on to the fact that, had Fujioka turned her phone on, there would have been less excitement so early in the day, which did make him a bit sour).

However, he did get the opportunity to smirk when Fujioka suddenly started shoving the Hosts out and, thankfully, left him from the collective group. At this rate, he could probably find somewhere to sleep a few hours so he would have the energy to get back to the flat later and finish his work as planned. Until Ootori pulled out the school rule book from the void (could muggles create pocket dimensions? Well, it was Ootori after all; he probably bought one) and announced that she couldn't have a job without the school's say-so, with the not-so-subtle hint that if she kicked them out they would tell a school official. Harry groaned and slumped into a chair. Even if any of them _were_ freaked out by his sexual preference (he was pretty sure they were just surprised, but one never knew), the twins were tenacious. In all likelihood, they would continue with the kidnapping.

"This summer we will stay at this pension as VIP guests!" Suou declared out of the blue. Harry slumped a bit more, knowing he wouldn't be able to get out of this until that night at the earliest.

Except that, thankfully, Suou was wrong, and there was, in fact, only one room not booked. Which the Hosts had to compete over by "being refreshing" which basically meant they had to draw in customers and make themselves useful for the day; the second being near impossible for the pampered brats. Still, Ootori seemed to pop up whenever Harry was thinking of slinking off to escape or find something else to do. In the end, he offered to help out as well.

"But I'm not participating in that weird contest you've got going with the Host Club," Harry informed Misuzu before he could get any ideas. "I'll settle for a jar or two of your homemade jam, okay?" After Sirius had started frequenting the okama bar and making friends with the men (dressed as women) who worked there, he had, in fact, been given a jar of jam by Misuzu, which Harry mistook for another jam later on and used as cake filling. It had tasted pretty good too, though his godfather had been distraught at having his jam used without his say-so.

It turned out that "helping out around the pension" for him was more fixing the mistakes that the other boys made. While "fixing" the fence on the side of the pension, Suou had hit his finger with a hammer, which Harry treated (he thought he heard the words "refreshing points" being tossed in his direction as he took care of the older boy's injury) and had to then direct him on how to _actually_ do the work, which had been slip-shod at best even after his instruction. Also, when Hikaru and Kaoru were assigned to do some cleaning, Harry had to go behind them and realign paintings, re-dust things, and generally redo the work altogether.

"I officially hate you all," he informed Ootori when he went to refill the older boy's teacup, "just so you know."

"Which is, of course, why you are helping out Misuzu-chi and generally halting the chaos," was the smooth reply before the Ootori heir. Harry felt very much like twitching. At least he wasn't wearing one of the aprons that the twins had been tricked into wearing (Kaoru seemed to be enjoying putting forks in his and randomly poking other Host members with them when they passed him by).

"I'm doing that for the jam," Harry grumbled. "And just so you know, I can leave any time I want." Ootori sent him an "Oh really?" sort of look, at which Harry scoffed. "I do have a sense of self-preservation, you know. If I left now those 'devil types' of yours would live up to their name and make my life living Hell. I'm not third in my class because I'm _stupid_, I assure you. And just so you know, when the paperwork isn't on time for my meeting with your father in two weeks, I'm telling him exactly who called me away from important work." With that, Harry turned on a heel and walked back to the kitchen, keeping an eye on Hani as he spread petals about from the flowers he had brought in. Those would take forever to sweep up, no matter who ended up doing it.

In the end, Kaoru and Hikaru won through some creative use of brotherly love, though Harry rather felt that, of them all, Mori deserved the position since he was not only useful, but the sight of him chopping wood while topless had definitely drawn in some customers.

Ready to collapse into the nearest bed (but sadly, this was not allowed, so he settled for taking another perk-me-up, knowing he would have a nasty potions hangover the next time that he did wake up), Harry was hardly paying attention when Misuzu practically glomped him. Upon release, he lugged his bag over his shoulder, though he did pay attention, miracle as it was, when the proprietor of the pension thrust two jars of jam into his hands.

"You did such a good job, Harry-kun!" Misuzu cooed happily. "It's too bad you decided not to participate in the contest; you had even more points than those twins at the end! The way you take care of your friends..." He was looking rather starry eyed, but Harry didn't notice that. He was sleepy and wanted to leave, even if that meant going along with the Host Club.

"I wouldn't exactly call them my friends, Misuzu-chi," Harry yawned tiredly as he dropped the jars in his bag, still swaying slightly on his feet. Being awake for sixty-nine hours straight did not leave him a very happy – or conscious – wizard. "They are just schoolmates who kidnapped me this morning is all. Though I wouldn't – " another yawn as he wiped at his eye, " – say that they were entirely evil... sometimes." He realized that he must not be awake to actually admit anything of the sort. "Thank you very much for the jam; I'm sure it will make Sirius very happy to have some."

With one last polite bow that almost had him sprawled on the floor, Harry allowed himself to be dragged to the waiting limousine by a hyperactive Hani. How could anyone be that awake? It felt like the world was on a sugar buzz and Harry was the only one who had crashed yet. He wasn't entirely sure how he remained awake in the car at all, but he knew he hadn't fallen asleep and was led quickly to the room that Hani was putting him up in.

Having only alerted the staff that there would be people staying around lunch time, however, Hani's staff had not had time to prepare enough rooms for everyone. Everyone except Hani himself had to double up, which Harry didn't particularly care to complain about since the rooms were roomy and he was still slightly used to rooming with several more than just one extra person.

He was in bed and had downed a Potion to Promote Good Dreams (wizards never were overly creative with naming things) before he even registered that there was actually anyone else in the room. The last thing he remembered was someone standing in front of the window closing the curtains.

"Don't close them all the way," Harry mumbled quietly, half into his pillow. "I like to see the sky."

And with that final image of someone (he didn't really care who) standing in front of a window, a single slit showing the stars shining into the room, Harry fell into dreams of safety, warmth, and (for some reason) a purple platypus named Bill who kept on saying tongue-twisters about dying "a minute or two to two today" which was "a thing distinctly hard to say, but a harder thing to do," or else about how "the lawyer's awfully awkward daughter ought to be taught to draw." He didn't feel much like waking up ever again, even if his dreams _were_ weird.

But wake he did as that single sliver of open curtain allowed for sunlight to stream through, and directly into his eyes, which, while not the worst waking, could have been better. It might also have had something to do with the garish noises coming from the next wall that sounded as if someone had stuck a hippopotamus into a car with the world's most annoying horn and it couldn't get out... or a flock of flamingos being mauled by a bag of hammers. Harry was too not-awake to tell the difference.

It was the same every morning (well, maybe not the same as just then, since there would be no Padfoot-slobber that morning when he got up, and his bed wasn't this squishy, nor did it smell like lavender – which promoted good dreams, if he was remembering correctly – and his alarm clock, when he used it, wasn't quite so annoying) to an extent. His eye – the one not buried in pillow – peeked open to glance at the window to assure himself that he could escape the room if he so desired. Then he closed it quickly and buried his face all the way in the pillow provided, snuggling into it with his blankets wrapped around him like a cocoon while he just lay about and thought.

It wasn't that he thought of anything in particular in the mornings. When he woke up, he knew that going to sleep again was not an option unless he used a potion, which was not a wise idea. So, instead of overdosing on potions, he usually spent an hour or two in bed before actually getting up to just think and lounge in bed without having to worry about anything in particular like his toes being cold or if Sirius was going to need a hangover potion.

This morning he was thinking about being kidnapped and how... _relaxed_ he was feeling. He really shouldn't feel so relaxed; he knew that quite well since he had been taken mostly against his will when he was meant to be working. At the moment, his only company duty was dealing with the Potter-Evans dealings with the Ootori Group, mostly because it was convenient, he needed experience, and Potter-Evans Medical Supply Corporation was the company his mother had started to help jump-start the integration of magic and muggle and to save lives. By the time he graduated Ouran, he would have complete control of Potter-Evans, and through business school he would slowly accumulate more responsibility as Head of the Potter Conglomerate. Even though he was technically in charge, he knew next to nothing, and mostly just let his stand-in do as he pleased.

Which led his thoughts back to how relaxed he was and how he _really_ shouldn't be. If he couldn't even deal with the one responsibility regulated to him by the company, he could he expect to take over? Ever? He had the rest of the week to finish the details of the bargain before it was sent over to the home offices to be looked over, true, but he intended to do a smashing job, and that involved looking through every contract he had with the Ootori family as a base and working things reasonably so that less haggling would be necessary when he met with Ootori Yoshio in twelve days time. And Harry also had school work to do, as well as a few textbooks on magical history to read through by the end of the short break from school. He really didn't have time for all of this.

He especially didn't have time to laze about in this comfy bed, sniffing at the lavender scented sheets with a smile on his face when he could be heading back to the flat. But he let himself have that small luxury; it wasn't even six a.m. yet, and he had every right to stay in bed to at least six, maybe even seven since it was a holiday.

Such rest was not meant to be as movement somewhere off to his left caught Harry's attention (he vaguely remembered that he was sharing a room with someone) and he peeked curiously over, wondering who he had been bunked with. It was easily answered, even though he couldn't see very well (where had he put his glasses?) as he saw a tanned flesh-colored blur in a sitting position with short, spiky, black hair. Harry was simultaneously glad and disappointed that he couldn't see Mori properly, since he was topless, but settled for burying his face in his pillow again.

Damn "vacation" was going to be the death of him.

**Author's Note: I **_**do**_** have a plot and I am going somewhere with this. Sorry if it's boring to read all of this stuff that you already should know has happened, but I don't much care if you find it boring, aggravating, or if you just want to read some boy-lovin' or something like that. I'm writing because I want to write, and if you want instant gratification, please go elsewhere.**

**If you had not figured I was writing slash from the warnings - which are at the top of the page - or from the first author's note, then I'm curious as to how you missed it. I will admit that any real slashiness won't come for a while, and that this is my first time writing slash, even though any situations will be mild, I'm still making an effort. There have also been in-text clues, so please don't complain. This is my first time writing my main pairing as slash (before I've never even gotten to the point where having a pairing matters, anyway) or a main character as gay. **

**Bill the Purple Platypus is something I made up... about two years ago when I was still an ickle freshman. But he's special (and a Hufflepuff... 'cause I said so). The tongue-twisters mentioned are actual tongue-twisters... and I couldn't help but add the one about the lawyer's awfully awkward daughter. ('Cause Haruhi's mum was a lawyer... and I was like XD)**

**The chapter contains dialogue from chapter 18 of the manga in various (2) places.**


	5. Chapter 5

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves (plus extra characters today!)

Chapter 5

"No," Harry deadpanned as he flipped through yet another folder of contracts with the Ootori Group. Why did there have to be so many?

"But – !" Kaoru was cut off quickly with yet another solid "no" from Harry. "Come on, you need to get out! We invited you ("Kidnapped," Harry corrected, but the protest was ignored) so you could have fun! Kyouya-senpai even got your business stuff delivered! Please?" Harry responded with a quick glare before returning to the paperwork in front of him. Kaoru turned to the other bespectacled person at the small breakfast table of the pension. "Kyouya, you can make him come, right?"

It was the third day of their stay at Misuzu's pension. The day before, when Harry finally got up, he found that Ootori had called Sirius (when did they exchange cell phone numbers?) and had him drop off the things he needed to work on the contract. Of course, being Sirius he sent over some extra stuff, including some much needed clothes since he'd only brought one extra outfit and his wallet... and nicked the jam, somehow. The fact that this roped him into a longer stay could be ignored, though, since Harry supposed that working on the deal at one of the tables at the pension was better than on the small desk in his room at the flat. There were more windows, and easier access to the outdoors.

That did not, however, mean that he was going to skip about town and follow Fujioka and Hikaru on their date in half an hour. He had work to do, and it really did have to be done. Unfortunately, Kaoru was hard to deter, and for some reason Ootori agreed that he ought to go.

"It's not healthy to absorb yourself overmuch in work, Potter-kun," Ootori pushed his glasses up his nose as his fingers tapped away at his laptop. Harry gave him a look from across the table that clearly stated "pot calling the kettle black," but he continued as if Harry hadn't said anything (which was true anyway). "I, for example, indulge in the Host Club and I will be going as a chaperone for the 'date.' You, however, have spent all yesterday and today since we gave you your things working. You have several days yet to complete your work, and from what I understand you are taking it _far_ too seriously."

"Maybe that's because it's an important deal," Harry snapped back. "My company is in the business of saving lives, Ootori-san, and while this particular deal is not about lives, it is still important. We fought long and hard to get the distribution rights for this remedy; we've only had it for a month now, and I don't want that to be for naught. I don't want there to be any mess ups. This is my first personal deal involving the company, and I feel I ought to be able to make a good rep with your father and with everyone at my own company. This is much more important than _relaxing_." Now if he could only convince himself of that.

"Hasn't your own company released studies that indicated just how taxing on the mind stress is? It's well known that even for adults, who are _mentally mature_," Ootori seemed to take great pleasure in distracting Harry from his work. If it weren't for the Statute of Secrecy, he would hex him silent... though the fine was only one hundred galleons... "cannot work more than eight hours in a single day without having a mental breakdown. As a teenager, your mind is at a more precarious place."

The argument went as such for a good ten minutes before Harry slammed the folder closed and slapped it down on the table. "Fine!" He snapped, glaring at his tormentors. Sometimes it was impossible to get either of them to give up. It was Ootori's wanting him to loosen up that was frustrating him most though; he knew his initial impression of the upperclassman had been accurate. Ootori was ambitious, cunning, and mostly self-serving, so _why the hell_ was he continuing to try to persuade him to do something so... so... _stupid_?

"Really?" Kaoru perked up, golden eyes sparkling with glee. Harry continued to glare.

"On one condition," He added, to the obvious dismay of the redhead. It would be obvious what his question would be. He would ask to be allowed to leave, or to have some peace and quiet later or something of the sort. But Harry had spent rather a lot of time around Sirius in the past eight months, and predictability had been easily bled out of him by the Marauder.

"Depends on the condition, I suppose," Ootori had closed his laptop by this point and his eyes were unreadable behind the glare of the lights.

"I get to take care of your cosplay for the first day back," Harry smirked as he said this, getting blank stares back from the other two. He wasn't entirely sure why he said _that_, but it would be fun, certainly. They wanted him to relax, well, he would spend the last day or so of the vacation doing something both productive and entertaining. It wasn't as good as flying, but after seeing the Club work for near two and a half months, he knew that it would help him relax; The stress of not giving himself any free time really was getting to him. Hopefully, this would help.

And the entire club would undoubtedly be sweating bullets wondering what he was going to dress them up in. That was always a plus.

The clause in the deal was that he had to be in disguise, however, and Kaoru claimed that there was no way he could go out wearing a long-sleeved shirt like he always did since "it's got to be at least thirty-two degrees out there! You'd be the only person wearing sleeves!" Harry hadn't been to happy about that, but had complied, placing a glamour over the scars on his arms and generally making himself unrecognizable without looking like he was incognito. The fact that he was the only one who owned "commoner clothes" (he glared at Suou for saying commoner again as they were heading out to stalk Hikaru) also made him the one with the most believable facade. The fact that he was comfortable in them, despite the short sleeves, even more so.

By the end of his stay at Hani's house, Harry had finished everything up and (secretly) gotten everyone's measurements that he would need for the cosplay. He was on the next portkey to Britain, apparating immediately from the portkey-site to just outside the meeting room of the Potter-Evans building. The next three days were spent working with the current CEO of Potter-Evans Medical to make sure there wasn't anything weak in the contract, having all three company lawyers reading over it as well to be certain. He also dropped off the measurements to get the costumes made after the first meeting.

The week after that meeting was spent at the flat (minus one visit with the Black Magic Club to Nekozawa's house), where he worked diligently on decorations and everything for the cosplay, feeling genuinely excited about it. He had Sirius help with one part, but wouldn't tell him what it was for – though the man was excited that Harry was doing something other than cook. Even his meeting with Ootori Yoshio went well, surprisingly enough, and he placed in a good word for the Host Club's "Shadow King" with the man in a subtle manner.

Indeed, after he started thinking on directing the cosplay, the vacation sped by and he was really feeling relaxed as he had the first morning in Karuizawa (well, technically they'd been a half-hour's drive outside of Karuizawa, but that was hardly the point). He really shouldn't indulge in such frivolity, but he wouldn't when he started business school. He promised himself this firmly. This relaxation let him notice that Sirius seemed more excited than usual, though after a phone call midday of the last evening of vacation he became suddenly sullen and took an entire chocolate cake in his room to brood over. He seemed happy enough the next morning (and oddly awake, considering it was morning), so Harry made nothing of it.

* * *

Harry came to school with a small smile playing across his face, already planning exactly how he would set everything up; it was all shrunken in his bag. He quickly spotted Hani, and in turn he found each Host and told them the time they could enter the Music Room, since they weren't allowed in until he was done setting up. It would be long enough to get them in their costumes, at least, and he would probably spy on them again since his bag hadn't had room for him to tuck in any spare books... though he had brought his Invisibility Cloak, which took up just as much room in said bag. How curious.

The day sped by in a blur, even lunch (he bought one for once, though the high-quality fair tasted odd to him and he ended up sharing a lot of it with Fujioka since he didn't eat very much), and before he knew it, the bell was ringing. Out of his seat immediately, Harry was out of the door before most others were even up. Why was he even so excited over this? Well, he didn't know why he'd decided to ask to do it in the first place. Spontaneity was fun, wasn't it? The impromptu kidnapping hadn't been, but he recalled a lot of sudden happenings that he enjoyed.

At ten minutes before the club would officially begin for the day, Harry opened to doors to admit the anxious hosts, and grinned as they all stared in awe. Well, the awe was much deserved; the third music room was barely recognizable.

Perhaps the easiest change to notice was that the walls were suddenly made of – or rather, plated with – stone that stretched to the ceiling. Said ceiling looked to have open rafters to the sky, though Harry had kept the image still since he _was_ dealing with muggles, no matter how rich they were. The floor remained tile, but it managed to go nicely with the new decor.

On the far wall, four large creations made of various colored roses- most unnatural shades – were hung with pride. One was a banner of deep red roses with yellow and orange blooms weaved through it to show a lion. Gryffindor. Next to it was a banner of bright yellow with a badger created of white and black roses seeming to be climbing up and glancing behind it at the rest of the room. Hufflepuff. Hundreds of royal blue roses were woven together, bronze, pale yellow, and slightly-pink blooms crafting an eagle taking flight. Ravenclaw. The fourth and final banner of roses was a deep green color with shimmering silver roses making a snake poised to strike. It had taken him almost twelve hours straight to make those, discounting the time it took to enchant the roses to be such impossible hues in the first place since he'd gotten Sirius to do that. The flat would never smell the same (though it smelled better than it had before, and it would hopefully have waned some by the time he returned).

All of the tables in the room were dedicated to a different banner, including the usual tables where each Host usually sat.

Hanging on a set of hangers from a clothes rack were eight Hogwarts uniforms; seven men's and one woman's. Harry was grinning in front of the shocked Hosts, Hedwig resting on his shoulder, immensely pleased with himself.

"Welcome," he mimicked, turning away to leaf through the costumes. He pulled off the one girl's uniform and one of the boys'. "Fujioka-san, will you be a boy today or a girl? Your choice." He sent a pointed look at the Hosts telling them to not interfere with her decision. Fujioka picked boy, naturally, and he placed the girl's uniform back on the rack. "Great. Well, here are your costumes for today." Each uniform had dark gray slacks, not much paler than the Ouran uniform pants, but noticeably so. Slightly off-white dress-shirts with ties of alternating stripes hung around the neck and pitch-black robes made the uniforms complete. "Fujioka-san, you have Ravenclaw – that's the blue one with the eagle. Hikaru-san, Kaoru-san, you have Gryffindor, which is the lion. Mori-senpai, Hani-senpai, you've both got Hufflepuff, the badger, and Ootori-senpai and Suou-senpai get Slytherin, the snake. Now off with you!" He grinned maniacally, thrusting the appropriate costumes into each person's arms as he said their names.

Why was this so much fun? Harry was nowhere near sure, but he was content to know that his cheeks ached from the grin he was sporting. As everyone emerged (though Fujioka had to change separately considering she was a girl) Harry would alter the costumes slightly. He told Hikaru to un-tuck his shirt a bit and had Kaoru un-tuck the side opposite that which Hikaru had done. For Suou and Ootori, he didn't have them change anything since Slytherins usually were very prim-looking (except Malfoy since he was a brat, but that was Malfoy). Hani was the only one he had wearing a hat, since it made him look positively adorable, and he adjusted Mori's tie to it was half un-done and he looked a bit more relaxed. It also made him fit his "wild" description, and Harry found the look oddly fitting with his Hufflepuff tie askew.

He even let Hedwig choose a Host to spend her time with – though she was free to leave at any time – and she had picked the highest perch of them all. It made sense, he supposed, since Mori was supposed to be good with animals (apparently he had a chick named Piyo-chan), and it added slightly to his wild look to have such a prim owl on his shoulder.

Yes, Harry was _quite_ happy with how he'd done, and the customers seemed happy as well when they came in, especially as Ootori spouted off the information that Harry had given him to make it seem as if they actually knew what they were doing. It wasn't a lot, just some very basic information about the houses which Ootori tweaked ever-so-slightly to make it more plain how each person fit their House. Honestly, Harry liked the description that the second year had formed the normal one into more, as it actually made more sense and it really was accurate.

"The four banners coincide with the crests of our robes," he explained in a serene manner to the girls around him. "And each crest has its own meaning. The lion crest – Gryffindor – represents bravery, a passionate personality, a light-spirit, and a sense of individuality in unity. They stand together, but they have their own strength when they stand alone that will take them far." Any girls around the twins were going mad with the explanation as it drifted over. "Haruhi-kun bears the crest of the eagle – Ravenclaw – because it represents knowledge, a desire to learn, wit, and a certain boldness that goes along with knowing the truth. That is part of the secret to his 'natural' charm." A few girls giggled off to the side.

Ootori then indicated the two seniors. "Hufflepuff, the badger, is a symbol for hard-work and loyalty, a willingness to see the good in others, and a general optimistic outlook on life. Hani-senpai is of course very kind, as you all know, and you would be hard pressed to find anyone happier than he is, I should think; meanwhile Mori-senpai has great loyalty to Hani-senpai, and they both work very hard, you see?" The growing crowd of girls nodded emphatically. "And finally... Slytherin, the snake, for the crafty, sly, cunning, and ambitious. Those who want to move up in life are in Slytherin... and even our King, Tamaki, has his own ambitions."

Harry grinned beneath his cloak and moved on through the room. Technically this was revealing the wizarding world, or at least Hogwarts, to muggles, but Harry didn't care much. He had paid the seven hundred galleons ahead on the Host Club, not even counting what he'd spent on the uniforms and roses, since he knew Sirius would eventually let something spill to Ranka, probably while drunk and in front of his daughter, and then it would spread to the club anyway, no matter if Harry continued his arrangement with the Hosts. It was a pre-emptive strike, so to speak, and Harry was having fun anyway. No harm, no foul, in his book. Besides, it was best not to tempt fate.

Settling on a windowsill, Harry watched as the scenes played out. Even as girls fell to the whims of Ootori Kyouya's knowledge, still more were entranced as they were romanced by the Host King (who, Harry realized, looked a lot like Malfoy in those robes, though at least he wasn't saying anything about "commoners" yet, or else Harry really _would_ have to hex him) or watching awe as the twin Gryffindors played up their own act. A small cluster of Fujioka's regulars fell to her "natural charm" as they talked over things.

Mostly, though, Harry kept his eyes on the Hufflepuff table. Part of the reason was because he wanted to see how Hani was taking to being a 'Puff (quite well, naturally); another because he wanted to make sure that the diminutive Host liked the cakes he had made (which he did, if his pleased grin and the rate at which he ate were any indication). Yet another part of it was that he wanted to make sure that Hedwig was okay where she was. He was, however, curious about Mori as well, since he'd left a special gift on their table for the older boy. A history text.

And it wasn't just any history text, either, but a Japanese _magical_ history text that Harry was rather fond of. While he wasn't at all sure why he had decided to leave it on the Hufflepuff table – he'd actually ended up apparating to the flat to get it in the first place – he was curious as to how the senior would take it. Mori liked history, he remembered from when he'd initially been getting the hosts their gifts in April, and that particular text was very in depth on how magical history affected muggle history, especially regarding yakuza groups and warring factions of the revolutions such as the Shinsen-gumi. Harry knew next to nothing about yakuza in general, but it had been intriguing to find out how much magical yakuza groups and reformists had influenced Japanese history while still seeming to be regular muggles. Mori was quite engrossed in the book, too, from what he could tell, though he would doubtless see it as fiction... but oddly detailed and accurate historical fiction.

Harry smirked and continued watching until the guests began leaving, at which point he stood up, padded across the floor on his sock-clad feet, got his shoes back on and his invisibility cloak off when he was in his usual study area, and headed back to the main room to start "striking the set" as it were. Another smirk touched his features momentarily when he saw that Mori, even as he helped Hani with something or other, was still reading the book with a curious look on his face, though he quelled it since he was actually visible.

Before Harry could even do so much as to start removing the palettes of roses from the tables in the room, however, the doors opened again, which was weird considering the Host Club was closed for the day and the Hosts usually used this time to clean up and maybe hang out for a little bit. Harry was already facing the door and merely looked up, but what he saw was enough of a shock.

Sirius had never come to Ouran before. Sure, he'd call and text Harry in class (much to his annoyance) or ask him about school, but he'd never actually visited the Ouran campus... until then. And he'd brought _guests_ too. Guests whom Harry knew quite well, as a matter of fact.

"Sirius! Fred, George," he blinked as he looked at them. Being sure to stick to English (he was pretty sure that most of the Hosts, while they did know some English, were not fluent), he kept going. "What are you guys doing here? What about your shop?"

"Isn't that a lovely greeting," Fred snorted as he and George walked forward in unison, positions identical to the dot.

"Indeed it is, brother," George grinned, roping an arm about Harry's neck as Fred did the same from the other side. "But then again, it is –"

"Harry dearest, our brother in all –"

"But blood. So, Harry, quite the school you've picked," George continued as if his brother had not been speaking his sentence in his stead. Both were leaning heavily on Harry and had their faces very close to his. The younger of the three sighed internally. It was _definitely_ the Weasley Twins.

"How could you have moved away –"

"And not told us where? We were –"

"Quite worried about our benefactor, ickle-Harrikins." Fred pouted as he said this, nuzzling Harry's cheek like he was a dog missing its master. "You could have –"

"Owled –"

"Or called –"

"Visited, even!"

"We heard you dropped by one –"

"Of your companies the other week –"

"And even Madame Malkins –" They eyed the Hosts, who were all still in costume.

"But you didn't even –"

"Come and say –"

"Hello!"

Both twins leaned further on Harry, faking despair, so that he was carrying much more of their weight than he really ought to be. It was getting difficult to stand up. Twitching slightly, he glared at Sirius, who was just laughing, and glanced at the Hosts who were all watching the exchange with curious eyes. Hedwig hooted indignantly from her perch on Mori's shoulder at having her master molested by the Weasley twins, but no other indications came of anyone protesting to Harry being used to support the two larger boys.

"You're heavy," he deadpanned finally as he tried to move from their grasp, but he was stuck. Did they _have_ to come while he was at school?

However, Fred and George ignored him and gazed about the room, both releasing a low whistle. Fred started the exchange this time. "You really –"

"Outdid yourself –"

"On this one! Must have taken –"

"Forever to enchant –"

"All those roses –"

"Especially considering that you –"

"Would only be finishing –"

"Your OWLs right now. We, of course –"

"Have graduated, finally –"

"And with five NEWTs between –"

"Us, no less. Then again –"

"We've had a firm foot in –"

"The business world for –"

"The past year –"

"Thanks to your –"

"Generous donation."

The grip had gone slightly slack by that point, and Harry could stand properly, but still not escape. They always did know what they were doing.

"So Harry," George started, "are you replacing us or something?" He pointed his thumb towards the Hitachiin twins, who both had their heads tilted to the sides as they looked upon the scene. "They even have –"

"Gryffindor robes! And their shirts –"

"Are un-tucked the way ours –"

"Were in school." Fred finished with a dejected sigh, collapsing further on Harry, making his stagger further into George's embrace.

"As if I could replace you," Harry snorted. "They can't turn me into a canary if I eat a custard, now can they?" He paused, glancing again at the Hosts, and noticed also that Sirius was making his way over, probably to turn them into a dog-pile or something. Best to cut him off, somehow. "Do you guys have translations on?" Fred nodded while George just rested his head on Harry's. Even with the five inches he had gained since last seeing them, they were a good head taller than him.

He didn't even bother trying to disentangle himself from them and switched to Japanese for some (hopefully quick) introductions. "Fred, George, Sirius, this is the Ouran High School Host Club; they are cosplaying something that I picked. Fujioka Haruhi is the one in Ravenclaw robes – she's a girl by the way. Haninozuka Mitsukuni – everyone just calls him Hani – is the blonde 'Puffer with the rabbit – who is named Usa-chan – and the tall Hufflepuff with Hedwig is Morinozuka Takashi. Everyone calls him Mori. The Gryffindor twins who are _not_ taking your place are Hitachiin Hikaru and Kaoru; their mother is a top fashion designer. The Slytherin who looks kind of like Malfoy is Suou Tamaki; his father is the school's superintendent (it's kind of like Headmaster I guess, but also like being a school governor) and owns a prominent hotel chain. He's the 'King' of the Host Club. Finally, the 'Shadow King' is Ootori Kyouya, whose father's company is among the top clients for Potter-Evans Medical. Hosts, these two lumps hanging off of me are Weasley Fred and George," he indicated each in turn, "they're inventors who I went to school with in Britain. Black Sirius is my godfather and guardian." He managed to lift his arm enough to point at the offending Brit.

"Lovely introductions," George stated with a grin, "but –"

"We didn't come to –"

"Meet your friends. We –"

"Are kidnapping you for –"

"The evening. Sirius can pack up –"

"All this junk."

And without so much as a "how do you do" to the Hosts or any acknowledgement of their existence, Fred scooped up Harry's legs while George took his arms and they carted him away as if he was a stretcher. And they'd left his bag behind too, the bastards.

While Harry was being carried through the halls of Ouran, Sirius had plopped himself down in one of the chairs around a "Gryffindor" table, laughing yet again. The Hosts alternated between looking at the doors and him. Haruhi broke the silence.

"Ano... Black-san –"

"Just call me Sirius, Haruhi," he grinned, "I've told you that – what, ten times? – before." And indeed he had. Making friends with Ranka meant that he had met Haruhi before (and had dinner at their apartment two or three times). He turned his head slightly to Kyouya. "Hey, Kyouya," he said with a small wave of his hand. The boy being addressed pushed his glasses up his nose and gave a small nod before sitting on a couch. This seemed to be a signal to the rest as they sat on chairs around the table while Sirius just grinned lazily at them.

"Sirius," Haruhi began again, knowing better than to address him formally since he was terribly casual, "I didn't know you were his fa-"

"I'm not," Sirius cut her off yet again, knowing what she was going to say. "Harry's father and I used to be friends though; I'm his godfather." Unsure as to whether or not the concept really translated over, Sirius explained. "I'm the person his parents chose to be his guardian when they died." Haruhi blinked and made a small "o" of her mouth, but Sirius figured she hadn't put the pieces together yet. She probably hadn't even thought anything of Harry calling him "guardian" to begin with.

It did not, however, escape the deceptively small Host who was playing with the small necklace of honey-blossoms around his rabbit's neck. "So, Harry-chan's parents are dead?" the Host Harry had introduced as Hani asked, looking oddly serious for someone seeming so young. Most of the other Hosts seemed to jolt at this while Sirius nodded.

"The file his company provided said that he was the Head, but it didn't mention the circumstances," Kyouya admitted, for once not writing the developments in his ever-present notebook, or typing it into his PineApple laptop. "I had assumed that his father would have ceded the medical company to him for convenience's sake. I think I can understand why you requested we help him relax, however."

Sirius (yet again) nodded. "And thanks loads for doing it. I haven't seen him this happy since... well, I don't think I've ever seen him as happy as he has been since your vacation _ever_, actually. Maybe when he was a baby, but he was the quietest infant ever, so I can't really say." He sighed, leaning back into the couch. He felt coldness encroaching slightly and plucked a chocolate biscuit from the tray on the table that had not yet been cleared. It was one of Harry's, he realized happily, and grabbed two more to munch on. "He trusts you all a lot more than he thinks he does."

"Potter? Trust _us_?" The taller blond, Tamaki, stated incredulously. From the one instant previously when he had seen the boy before at Haruhi and Ranka's apartment, Sirius could already pick up that honest suspicion was probably very out of character for him. "He doesn't seem to like us much at all."

"No, it's just you he doesn't like, Tono (1)," the Hitachiin twins mocked in unison, though both seemed slightly confused about something, though they didn't ask. Maybe to do with the Weasleys. Sirius didn't much care.

"It's true; he must really trust you lot to leave you with Hedwig without him chaperoning," Sirius pressed. "He didn't let me alone with her for a good month after he came to live with me. Hell, when Kyouya called him for your rescue mission/vacation, he was gone before I could even check what all the fuss was about, and he _stayed_ instead of coming home straight away. With him, if that isn't trusting than nothing is." Sirius finished the last of his three biscuits and stood, ready to get things taken care of since Fred and George had volunteered him to do so. "Just keep in mind that Harry hasn't had anything of the life you expect. He shows caring in weird ways. The other day he informed me that he 'tolerates' you. That's a pretty big compliment coming from him nowadays."

With a final grin, Sirius left the table started taking the rose banners down from the wall to be shrunk when everyone was gone. Though his encounter with the Hosts had been short, he'd gotten them to say what he wanted them to say so that he could inconspicuously reveal what he wanted them to know. Harry needed friends, and he was fairly certain he'd chosen them; Harry would just never admit it. Not that he wouldn't tell Harry that he'd told them things, he just wouldn't tell him the subtle maneuvering he'd done. Harry wasn't the only one the Hat wanted in Slytherin after all.

Satisfied that he'd helped his godson take a step forward, Sirius hummed a Weird Sisters song under his breath as he worked at taking down the banners.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry was being dragged off of the Ouran campus by two overzealous twins who had (thankfully) set him on his own feet when they escaped the building they had been in. Managing to grind his heels into the cement enough for his "kidnappers" to stumble, Harry released his hands and rubbed at his wrists, knowing they would probably bruise. And his bag was still in the music room, too.

"Geez, ever heard of saying 'please'?" growled Harry, glaring at them as he adjusted his uniform so it wasn't so rumpled. The twins looked terribly out of place wearing muggle clothes, but they seemed comfortable enough. The only thing about them that was blatantly magical (to those who knew to look) was just _how_ identical they were, in that they really and truly did know exactly what the other was thinking at all times and were essentially one being in two bodies unlike muggle twins such as Hikaru and Kaoru who simply know how their counterpart thought.

"Maybe," George shrugged, brushing lint of off his shoulder, "Once or twice –"

"A hundred times –"

"From our mum –"

"And Percy –"

"McGonagall –"

"Snape –"

"I get the picture!" Harry snapped. For a moment he entertained the notion that he might actually prefer the Hitachiin twins since they could formulate a conversation individually and weren't always privy to what the other would say, but dismissed it. It was Fred and George, after all. Even if they left something (sanity, quiet, etc) to be desired, Harry had known them for years and was their silent business partner. "Could you at least have let me get my bag before grabbing me?"

"Sirius will get it," Fred waved off his concern as if it were moot, which it wasn't. His bag was in the side room he used to study. Sirius wouldn't think of it until he needed somewhere to put everything, and by then the Hosts would be gone. He wouldn't know where the bag was and would assume Harry had it, meaning that all Harry's things would stay at school unless he was allowed to apparate in.

"Now then, Harry-kins," George grinned, "we –"

"Have you under –"

"Our control. You will not –"

"Complain –"

"Fuss –"

"Ignore us –"

"Or anything else that may –"

"Be construed as negative –"

"Clear?"

"Crystal," Harry sighed, not bothering to protest as the looped their arms around his shoulders and led him away in a more considerate way than before. Fred grinned.

"Smashing! We were sure –"

"You would protest –"

"Or something. But this –"

"Way, everything will go –"

"Swimmingly I should think. Now –"

"You will treat us to –"

"Something of an interesting –"

"Food here, got it?" Harry nodded in response to George's question. "We –"

"Want –"

They finished together, "ramen!"

**Author's Note: Bringing in some HP characters and giving the Hosts an opportunity to learn more about Harry. When it mentioned Sirius being down on the last day of Harry's vacation, it was because Fred and George called to tell him their portkey was delayed and, instead of arriving that night, they wouldn't get in until about noon-ish the next day. Timeline wise, it's about three days after they would have graduated from Hogwarts, so early July.**

**I know that the summer break for this story was out of place, but considering there will be a second summer vacation, I think we can let it slide. Summer break probably includes Tanabata, but... well, I'm pretty much ignoring that. I hate the whole star-crossed lovers thing soooo much.**

**Writing the Fred-and-George parts made my brain hurt... T-T**

(1) I'm having the Twins use "Tono." It is a form of address, so I'm keeping it. Plus I don't know the literal translation since the scanlations either say Tono or switch between any number of other titles.


	6. Chapter 6

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves (plus extra characters today!)

Chapter 6

"This stuff isn't as great as it's made out to be," Fred grumbled, poking at his bowl of beef ramen with disdain. "What kind of soup–"

"Has _egg_ in it?" George echoed. Neither of them were having much luck with their chopsticks as they attempted to pick up noodles by swirling them in the bowl like a plate of spaghetti and coming up with only one noodle at a time. Harry had offered to ask for forks, but they declined. Both were obviously regretting it now.

"Ramen is more than just _soup_," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes as he tucked into his miso ramen. He had first tried it at Sirius' insistence in late March, a few days before he was set to start at Ouran, and had to admit that it was pretty good. His chopsticks gracefully picked out a swirly naruto while he watched the twins fail with their own. "And you could take the egg out. It's not _that_ hard."

"Not happening!" They snapped back in unison. Harry sighed and decided to ignore their antics, knowing it wouldn't let up. Usually, they were the most genial people around, but they seemed a bit aggravated with him. Probably the whole "moving to Japan and not telling them" thing. No matter what had them mad at him, though, they were getting on his nerves, George especially since he seemed to be instigating most of the complaining.

"If you don't like something, do something about it, or keep quiet; I can't help it if you don't like egg in your soup and can't use chopsticks," Harry retorted, taking a vicious bite of the noodles he had pulled from his bowl. Both glared half-heartedly before picking up their eggs from their bowls (clumsily) and depositing them in the waste bin next to their table. "Was that so hard?"

"No," Fred murmured as he speared one of the fish cakes on a chop stick, no longer bothering to even attempt to use them properly. He glanced across the small table at Harry before speaking again. "So, what's up with you and those guys?"

"The Host Club?" Harry asked rhetorically, getting an immediate affirmative from both twins. "I have a business arrangement with Ootori Kyouya; essentially I rent one of the rooms that shoot off of their club room so that I can study in peace. Madame Pince would have a fit if she came to any of the libraries in that school; it's louder in them than the Gryffindor Common Room after a win at Quidditch, and the girls all scream like banshees at the littlest things. The room I borrow is essentially sound-proofed and ideal for when I want to stay after school or do some reading without Sirius attacking me."

The twins exchanged unnecessary glances. "That, Harry, doesn't explain –"

"Why you gave them _Hogwarts_." Fred finished, giving Harry a steady gaze that spoke of curiosity that wouldn't die with the simple explanation he had given. Harry diverted his eyes back to his ramen and ate another mouthful of noodles as he contemplated what to say.

"I... didn't really think much on it," Harry admitted sheepishly, glancing up at the twins who were giving him speculative glances. "I mean, a few weeks ago, during summer vacation, they tricked me into thinking they needed help rescuing Fujioka... but she didn't need saving at all and I was basically kidnapped into going on vacation with them. I'm guessing that Sirius was in on it to an extent, since he dropped my work things off for me – the work I was in England for a couple weeks ago. At one point, they wanted me to help them spy on Fujioka-san and Hikaru-san – he's one of the twins – and I had a condition. Sirius rubbed off on me, I guess, since I asked to be in charge of their cosplay for today.

"Anyway, long story short, I got Madame Malkins to make the uniforms. You guys were still at Hogwarts (1), so you really can't blame me for not visiting!" He protested this before they could speak up. "It was all spur of the moment, and since I'd picked something so utterly stupid as my condition for helping them, I had to do _something_. I wasn't going to do something lame, like having them dress up as Issun Boshi or Kintaro (2) or anything like that."

"That doesn't explain –" George began again.

"_Why_. You just told a story –"

"But not anything –"

"We wanted to know." Fred's look here was piercing, and Harry looked down yet again. What more did they want from him? "So tell us –"

"What your relationship with –"

"Those blokes is. Do you –"

"Secretly have a twin –"

"Fetish you didn't tell us about?"

Harry gagged on his noodles at this, hacking up a lump of half-chewed food onto the table as he glared at his tormentors. He was glad they were talking in English, and swiftly. As it was, people sitting nearby may have caught too much. The _Weasley twins_ were asking him if he had a bloody twin fetish! The very idea... he shuddered, horrified.

"You two are bad enough, but _ew_!" Harry grimaced as he said this, glaring at them even more. "I do not have a – a _fetish _– for twins. That was always Seamus' area of conversation in the dorms and I'd rather _not_ think on it, thank you _very_ much for the mental images." He pushed his bowl of ramen away, feeling queasy all of a sudden.

"Well, if it isn't –" George seemed to be taking the lead still.

"Them, then who?" Fred took up the end. Harry glared.

"I am _not_ talking with you two about boys," He informed them firmly. "Any emotional attachment is purely circumstantial, I assure you."

"What about the little one?" George asked.

Harry's glare increased in intensity. "I do _not_ think about Hani-senpai that way. He looks like he's not even _ten_ yet, even if he is older than me. I'm not like the weird pedo-girls who designate him after school." He paused, thinking on what else to say. They were going to keep haranguing him until he admitted to having some sort of affection to at least one of them. "I'm just... jealous of him, okay?"

"Why is Ickle –"

"Harrikins jealous of the –"

"Ickle Blondie? Does he –"

"Have the boy you want?"

"No! For the love of Merlin, will you shut up about that?!" Harry snapped, really getting aggravated. He had a headache now, and all his usual potions were still in his bag. Which was at the Host Club. Which he would probably have to apparate to so he could get said bag, because his phone was in it, too. "I'm jealous of him because he gets to enjoy his childhood the way I never got to, okay? Sweet Circe, you guys are just..." He let out an angry sigh, taking a slug of water from his water bottle. He probably wouldn't have even mentioned that if his head weren't trying to murder him, in fact, he knew he wouldn't have. But the twins and the head ache just... He let out another sigh. "Can you just be quiet for a couple minutes? I've got a headache the size of Voldemort cooking my brains right now." He ignored the twitch from them at the dreaded name.

Silence (relative, given they were at a restaurant that was crowded for the dinner rush) reigned over their table as Fred and George continued to fight their chopsticks to pick up the noodles and Harry stared moodily at his water, trying to block out the pain. It was a slow process, but eventually the headache receded to being a dull throb, which he could handle.

"How are things back home?' Harry asked finally as he contemplated the mysteries of bottled water. "I didn't even read the _Prophet_ while I was there. Didn't want to see some article about how Sirius had kidnapped me again, you know?"

It was the opinion of the Ministry – and therefore the _Daily Prophet_ and it's readership – that Harry would never have left the Isles of his own freewill because he obviously _wanted_ to be worshipped, and therefore the notorious murderer (cleared of said charges in two countries, but the British Ministry didn't give a rat's ass about any country other than their own, so Sirius was still considered a mass murderer there, despite Pettigrew having been caught at Malfoy Manor) _must_ have kidnapped him and be doing unspeakable things.

Like dragging him through Kyoto to look at the temples. Oh, the horror.

If wizards had half as many brains as conspiracy theories, they would all be geniuses... or at least smart enough to look at flight records. Both luckily and not for Harry, they were too caught up in being idiotic to think of doing anything so simple as that... though, since most wizards don't know the top end of a phone from the bottom, it was likely that such a thing couldn't _ever_ happen.

"After you gave Skeeter that interview in November," George started, "Ron and –"

"Ginny have been taking a lot of flak." Harry was surprised at the long sentence fragments they were taking up, but stayed silent. He didn't want to jeopardize his luck.

"Dumbledore kept vouching for them –"

"But no one is trusting him much. He was –"

"Dropped from his position as Supreme Mugwump and –"

"Was suspended from being around –"

"Any children. They say if he can do something so horrible to –"

"The Vanquisher-of-Voldemort than he could do it to –"

"Anyone else, but since it wasn't –"

"_Illegal_ per se as you didn't actually drink any –"

"Of the Amortentia, and trying to give a kid the 'right' friends –"

"Isn't a crime, he's still out and looking for you."

"Although he keeps saying –"

"He knows exactly where you are and that –"

"You are being kept from Britain by external forces –"

"And if he could _please_ have his position as Headmaster back –"

"That he could certainly manage to return you to your adoring fans."

"You can't be telling me that _no one_ has mentioned my being in the country for a few days, can you? If Madame Malkins told _you_, then loads of people must know, right?" Harry asked curiously. They had known he visited Britain on business, they even mentioned that they knew he'd been to the robe shop. He rather figured that would be the first thing they brought up.

"Oh, it got out into the _Prophet_ day of," Fred scoffed, sending yet another unnecessary glance at his brother. Harry took it to mean that he wanted to say this bit on his own. (3) "Everyone was buzzing about it, wondering why you were buying Hogwarts uniforms in so many different sizes, and one for a girl no less. The popular opinion at Hogwarts is that you and Sirius joined up with a bunch of renegade wizards in Moscow and you're going to return to Hogwarts with their children so that they can get an education while Sirius starts up an illegal muggle-slavery ring that loops through Portugal to Atlantis. They rather ignored that you requested uniforms for specific Houses and didn't get sized-up yourself."

"Glad to know there's no slaving going on though," George added cheekily. "So why stay here –"

"When in Britain you could have any guy or girl you want?" Fred finished.

That, however, was too much. Harry glared fiercely at both Weasleys before him as he stood abruptly, smacking the money for the bill onto the table as he turned and left. Hadn't he said he _didn't_ want to talk about relationships? He was damn sure he had. As soon as he found an empty alley, Harry ducked in and apparated back to just a minute's walk from Ouran, even though there wasn't an apparation point nearby. He just wanted his bag, a headache cure, and to flay Sirius alive.

Harry did not go home that night. He sent Sirius a text message about getting the twins to leave him alone for a while so he could get his temper down and got a hotel room instead. After that disaster at the ramen shop, he needed to cool down, and badly.

Of all the Weasleys, since Ron and Ginny were traitors, he'd _thought_ that Fred and George were probably the best of them that he knew well. Maybe they weren't sensible, but they were a good sort and didn't usually press him about things unless they needed to be pressed. His social and love lives – or lack thereof – were not in need of pressing, and had been taken off of the table quite definitively only a minute, maybe two, before they had tried to broach the subject again. He'd figured at least _they_ would understand his wish for solitude.

Apparently not. They had brought up a very good reason for him to never go back to Britain again. His fan club, or, indeed, anyone who had any sort of opinion regarding him – which was just about every witch and wizard in the world, never mind Britain – wanted to be his _friend_. Whether that meant buddy-buddy type of friend or something more intimate, every magical person wanted that position.

But Harry didn't want them. He'd thought he had friends; Ron had been a good sort when he wasn't being an ass (which was most of the time) and had molded Harry's views to his own will, been a traitor and a hanger-on. Ginny... well, he barely even _knew_ her, and she betrayed him.

His only real friend in the world had been killed when the Death Eaters attacked King's Cross. Well, he liked to think Hermione was a real friend, but now he'd never know, would he?

* * *

The next day of school as a pain as well. Harry entered his classroom to find Fred and George sitting on his desk talking with the Hitachiin twins in a serious manner. Fred and George plus seriousness (or just Sirius) was never a good thing. It usually ended with canaries and/or explosions.

"What are you two doing here?" He snapped irritably. He'd just been starting to calm down properly, too, and then those loons had to (possibly) ruin their chance at him not wanting to hex them florescent pink or something equally evil. He wondered – for about half a second – if he should just forgive them for overstepping the bounds of polite conversation, but it was hardly an argument. They were the ones at fault, not Harry.

"Well, since you vanished on us last –" Fred started.

"Night, we thought we should –"

"Come apologize for being –"

"Rude to our benefactor. We figured you –"

"Wouldn't skip out on class just –"

"Because we set you to boil. And you –"

"Turned your phone off after –"

"You told Sirius to make us shove –"

"Off, so we had to do –"

"This in person, you see? But –"

"These two accosted us when we asked –"

"Them where your class is since –"

"They were the only people we knew." Fred and George shrugged simultaneously. "They keep having –"

"Us guess which is which. It's –"

"Quite boring! They are quite easy –"

"To tell apart, you know. They even changed –"

"Their hair styles six times and –"

"It doesn't make a bit of difference. They're too –"

"Different from one another to make it any fun."

Harry twitched slightly. "I see," he murmured. He could only tell which Hitachiin was which if he got them on their own for a split second, or if they were having a conversation with each other. Fred and George were easier, since he actually knew them... well, he'd been able to tell them apart for a while, but that was hardly the point. He wasn't going to get jealous because they – who were used to only knowing who was who – could do what only Fujioka seemed to be capable of. "Couldn't this have waited?" At this rate he might need a calming draught to concentrate when class started.

"No," Fred and George answered simultaneously. "Sirius is taking us to lunch today; that means you too. Be at your flat around noon." Then they stood, again in unison, linked arms, and strode out of the classroom together, the sparse inhabitants watching as they left. Harry blinked.

"They didn't even apologize," he grumbled finally before collapsing into his desk. He noticed vaguely that Kaoru and Hikaru were still standing in front of his desk, which meant they wanted to say something. Harry sighed and glanced up. "Well? Hikaru-san, Kaoru-san, what do you want?" Oddly, they did the least expected thing and just looked at him. They didn't speak, just staring him down as if he were some curiosity that they had just discovered. Were they like this when they discovered that Fujioka was a girl? Somehow, he doubted it. "What?"

"What's on your forehead?" The one on the left – Harry had a feeling that this was Hikaru – asked. Not that Harry cared which one had said it, just that it had been said. His forehead? His eyes widened minutely as he realized exactly what had been said. He hadn't hidden his scar that morning.

"Hm? Oh, must be a fabric imprint," he waved it off as nonchalantly as he could. "I only woke-up a little while ago, and I was half-asleep on the way here." Lie, but solid as he could manage. "I must have pressed my head against my arm while I was on the train. I know an easy way to get rid of it..." He stood again, even though he had been sitting for less than a minute. "Be back in a minute."

The rest of his day seemed equally chaotic. Because of his anger at Fred and George, he hadn't done his math homework, so he had to stay in during lunch (a blessing, since he didn't feel like doing whatever Sirius wanted or at all up to seeing the nuisances during his lunch hour), and he was reminded on three separate occasions by members of the Black Magic Club that they didn't have a meeting that day, one of which occasions made him late to Chemistry because Nekozawa had snuck up on him and made him drop his things (thank Merlin for Unbreakable charms, or his books would have been soaked by his potions kit). Indeed, he was starting to think that this whole week would be horrible.

When the final bell for the day rang, Harry hadn't figured out anymore of how he meant to deal with the nuisances who would, more likely than not, be waiting for him at his flat or else ready to apparate to school to kidnap him again. They were his friends, after all, and had helped him before they knew he was Harry Potter. They liked him not because, but in spite of him being who he was to the wizarding world, and that was something rare for him. Offering an ultimatum would be cruel, both to them and him, and ignoring them was cold; they were only there for one more day before they went back to England to start stocking the shelves of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

With this in mind, Harry vanished behind the school's West building and apparated home to face the music.

The irony that he'd thought up that sentence just as he arrived was not lost on him, as the pressure of his made-up rubber tube of apparation let up, because there was, in fact, music. The Weird Sisters to be precise. A Wizarding Wireless had been set up on the kitchen counter, and the twins were sitting at the small table by the entrance to the flat playing exploding snap. Both looked rather dejected.

"Two aces, three," Fred tossed two cards down.

"Bull shit," George informed his brother. The obvious downside of the twins playing such a game together was that they couldn't actually lie to the other. It had made several nights in the common room interesting, as neither could ever win a game of bull shit since the other always wanted to win and always knew when the other was bluffing. It made poker just as fun. "Three threes, two."

"One four, one."

"Two fives, zero." And then the pile of cards at the center of the table exploded, leaving a singed table top and perfectly alright cards sitting calmly in the middle.

"I don't think I've ever seen you two so utterly _boring_," Harry informed them in a flat tone. He had taken a small sip of calming draught to make sure that his frustration with them didn't impair his judgment, and there was no way he was going to let himself take more. All he needed was a bit of a dulled edge to make sure he didn't go mad while talking to them. For a moment he wondered why Sirius wasn't around, but dismissed it. He'd probably gone off to hang around with Ranka or another of the men from the okama bar for a bit to give him the opportunity to talk to the oddly calm Weasleys.

"That's because we've never been so utterly _bored_," Fred replied. He tossed down another couple of cards. "Two sixes, ten."

"Bull shit," George repeated as Fred picked up the entire stack. "Sirius is moping because you didn't come for lunch, so he won't play tour guide for us." Harry blinked. Usually long sentences like that were shared. Maybe they weren't just _acting_ dejected. "One king, nine."

Harry watched them play until it ended with George winning. Cards were a lot more boring than he ever expected, especially without the usual interjections from each twin about whatever they felt like. Sure, the cards exploded every ten turns in a game of B.S, but that hardly made it any more entertaining since no one jumped and the two normally vibrant youths were so bored themselves.

Before they could deal again, Harry snatched up the deck and pushed the cards back into their box. "Come on, I'm taking you both out. At this rate you'll blow up the entire complex."

After that, things settled a bit. Fred and George stopped pestering Harry about his private life and instead enjoyed as he took time out of his normally busy schedule to show them the sights for the day. He managed to pack in Nara, Kyoto, and even popped up to Mt. Fuji for an hour or so before taking them home for dinner. Sirius had left a note saying he was at the okama bar, as usually was in the evenings, and Harry made an Indian dish (4) that he had made frequently for the Dursleys back in Surrey.

* * *

The twins left early in the morning, and were gone by the time Harry was heading out the door to catch his train to school. That day ended up quite normal for a day at Ouran, and it was with lifted spirits that he was heading for the third music room to get some studying out of the way. Even though Sirius had been a lot less clingy since May, if they did happen to be at home at the same time, especially if Harry meant to study, Sirius would find some way to waylay him and manage to get him away from anything involving schoolwork.

It wasn't until after he entered that he decided that, maybe, his entire week had gone to pot since there was something very obviously wrong. First off, all the lights had gone down with only a few candelabra lit in various parts of the room. Second was that all of the curtains had closed (something Harry was very much protesting in his mind. He couldn't see the sky!), and third, his own club president was in the room... and without his usual dark get-up and wig.

Something had gone very, very wrong. And it wasn't that it had suddenly been Autumn outside despite it only being early July. Well, not mostly.

"Nekozawa-senpai! What are you doing here?" He asked curiously. The older boy was sitting backwards in a chair, seeming undecided over something, while Hani and Mori were in the off corner with a whiteboard. Said whiteboard listed a few words that were common to the Black Magic Club President's vocabulary, with the heading "No-go words."

"Hm?" Nekozawa looked up, his eyes shimmering blue in the low lights. "Oh, Potter-kun. The Hosts – particularly Tamaki-kun – have decided to help me win over Kirimi-chan's affections. It's... difficult."

"Kirimi... your sister, right?" He had met Kirimi for about half a minute when the Black Magic Club had assembled at Nekozawa's house for their summer vacation meeting. She had run screaming from her elder brother. "How can they possibly manage it? It's not like they can condition you to be able to go in the light with your cloak and stuff. You can't condition an allergy out of someone." He shook his head. "I can still get you some of that vampire sunscreen if you want."

"No... I want to be able to do this under my own power," The blond looked down, resting his forehead on the back of the chair. Harry looked him over, nodded, and left the room. It wasn't his endeavor to give up on. "Oh, and Club is cancelled until we succeed or they give up. Whichever comes first."

Pausing at the door to his study area (and desperately wanting to get into it so that he could have access to the window – the darkened club room was starting to shrink on him), he turned his head and shot a smile over his shoulder. "Suou-senpai is very persistent, and the twins doubly so. Either headway will be made or they'll _make_ something happen. I would suggest having the sunscreen just in case of the second option."

First impressions aside, Harry could later decide that the week wasn't half bad. Club was only cancelled for one extra day that week, because the President rescued his sister from a cat on Thursday, and everything seemed to be going normally for the rest of the day as Nekozawa reverted to being creepy and dark. Life went on.

* * *

Harry was running later than usual on Friday, having been through three of the school libraries looking for the books he needed for a Literature paper. He had until the following Wednesday to do it, but figured that if they were being given almost a week it was expected to be a very good paper and planned accordingly. With little more on his mind than _why on earth_ he had to have been assigned Shakespeare plays of all things as his medium for the paper – it was on something to do with morality or justice or something, but he didn't mind that over much – he had entered the Host room, same as every other day that week (excluding Tuesday).

Maybe he shouldn't have.

The scene he walked in on was beyond strange, as he found Mori leaned slightly forward in front of Fujioka and brushing some hair back from her face. "You okay?" He asked. "Haruhi, you're such a wee little thing... be careful." Harry had barely ever even heard the Wild Type Host talk in more than just his usual recognition of "Aa" or when speaking to Hani. What possibly could have caused him to suddenly speak so much (comparatively)?

"I'm sorry," Fujioka murmured. Harry noticed that everyone else in the room (except the tallest himself) seemed quite weirded out by what was going on, watching intently. The fact that Mori suddenly smiled in a very charming manner (especially odd since the few smiles Harry had seen had been rather small "happy" smiles or else those of satisfaction, also small) made things seem terribly surreal. He wondered if, perhaps, this was all a very strange dream and that the sun would peek through his window and wake him up or Sirius would bound in and lick his face or something.

"No need to apologize," Mori stood up straight again, the charming, almost Suou-esque smile still etched across his features. "I meant that you're cute."

Shouts and gasps mixed with shock, horror, and moe (a word that Harry had long since decided to not look up in the dictionary for fear of what it might actually mean) erupted across the room. For three Hosts, horror. For the yaoi fangirls, moe. For the rest of the room, just plain shock. Harry just sort of gaped. What was up with Mori?

Ignoring the shouts from Suou and the twins (and Mori's reassurances to them that he was not a robot... though _sweet Circe_ Harry was surprised he could smile like that... and where did those leaves come from? It was raining outside and the windows were closed...), Harry tried to think of something, but he was completely at a loss, and he doubted even one of his wit sharpening potions would help him understand what was going on. It was completely absurd for what he knew of the tall host. (Admittedly, that was very little, but _still_!)

"Takashi!" Harry glanced to see Hani running up to his giant companion (who may or may not be a robot if one believed anything the Hitachiin twins said... but the idea was impossible, right?), Usa-chan clutched in his arms. "Are you sleepy by any chance?"

There was a moment's pause as Mori had a look of deep thought (the sort a very expressive person would have) before he nodded. "I think so," he admitted with ease, as if the concept of him being like that because he was tired made any sense. It might for some people, but if so, Harry hadn't met them. Most people were crabby if they didn't sleep, like Harry (well, he as actually a bit more efficient if he missed one night's sleep, but only for a few hours after sunrise). It didn't seem to fit.

"Then you'd better take a nap," Hani seemed so reasonable as he pulled a set of pajamas from the void, hopped onto a stool, and popped a sleeping cap on top of the taller boy's head. "Autumn is a sleepy season, you know."

"Aa," Mori nodded easily and vanished to the changing area. (5)

Harry blinked owlishly. "That... was the weirdest thing I've seen since coming here," he murmured. Shaking his head slowly, Harry wandered off to his study area, wondering all the while why, precisely, he'd cared so much that Mori was acting off.

**Author's Note: Mori is amazing. Just thought I'd let you know.**

**Happy Birthday to Harry Potter (who is now 28, but on the timeline for this story he would be... 18 since I bumped everything ten years to fit Ouran) and to JK Rowling (whose age I don't know, so I wouldn't know how many candles to put on the cake... oh well, more for Harry)! Till next time... for some reason I'm having a lot of fun writing this.**

(1) No Umbridge means that Fred and George did not drop out.

(2) Issun Boshi and Kintaro are Japanese fairy tales. Issun Boshi tells the tale of a boy as big as your thumb who became a samurai and felled a mighty demon. Kintaro was a young boy with superhuman strength and many animal friends. This is making fun of when Haruhi picked a cosplay theme of Momotaro (Peach boy), Hanasaka Jii-san (Grandfather cherry blossom) and Urashima Taro in chapter 59 of the manga. Couldn't help it.

(3) And that the author was feeling lazy and didn't want to keep hitting the ENTER key.

(4) In Britain, Indian food is sort of a local specialty since they always did so much trade with India and pretty much owned chunks of it for ages. For the Americans out there, think like we are with Mexican food. It's much the same relationship, food-wise, from what I've heard from my friends in England.

(5) The scene above is derived from the extra after chapter 21 titled "Mori's Secret" (On OneManga (dot) com, go to OHSHC, select chapter 21. It's pages 33-40) and includes quotations from the aforementioned chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 7

It was a normal day in the Black Magic Club. Seriously, nothing weird at all. Nekozawa had been looking up rituals all weekend, excepting the time he spent reading Shoujo manga to his sister (he had been reading a series to her called Hana Yori Dango (1) about a poor girl at a predominantly rich school who got on the wrong side of some rich playboys when the idea struck him) and found one that would prove interesting, or so he said. Harry honestly didn't get the appeal of using a ritual to make the candles change their scent every half hour, or what that had to do with Shoujo, but he didn't comment. It was all too... stupid to bother complaining.

With a sigh he set down the quill he had used to write the runes. The ink was color-changing, and could only be placed down when it was the same color as the candles they were changing, which meant he could only write one stroke every thirteen seconds. It was made especially difficult because his knowledge of runes was elementary. He'd picked up a couple books, but they were drier than Advanced Transfiguration Theory and he usually fell asleep reading them. It was a long endeavor, but at least he wasn't the only one doing it.

He just had to be the one to write the most vital runes because he had the largest magical core. Which meant he'd spent all of Monday practicing writing the runes... well, not _all_, but longer than he should have considering he still had to finish writing about the themes of Justice in those stupid Shakespeare plays. This was seriously cutting into the time he ought to be using for it. Not that what he had left was more than an hour's work, but he still had to get everything in order and type it up too. That would take him at least three hours. Hours that he would not have at school, since they had to be out of the building in half an hour.

Nekozawa helped him up from his crouch, even as Harry's legs let out a loud "crack" as they popped, before taking the head of the formation.

"Let's get started," the incontestably creepiest-guy-at-Ouran declared solemnly. Normally, one would expect this to lead into a bunch of muttering in some ominous language like Latin, Greek, or Olde Atlantian (which was almost impossible to be pronounced by anyone who hadn't grown up knowing the language without years of intense study), but such was not the case. Instead, Harry – who was at the foot of the formation (such magicks had to work bottom to top, even if only in a figurative sense) – touched his wand to the last rune he had written and watched as the ink proceeded to change colors.

As the roil of color worked its way up, it began moving toward the center as well, swirling in a vortex of pretty lights that looked highly out of place in the darkness of the Third Chemistry Classroom (with black room function). It took all of ten seconds to complete the ritual after the runes were done. Harry found the entire thing pointless, though he was slightly curious as to how the Never-Melt charms would take to the ritual.

In one final burst of light (which knocked the vaunted President out) the runes (which had taken three hours to write) vanished cleanly and all that remained were three puddles of wax that were flicking between color after color at an eye-searing speed, barely visible from the flickering light of the candles not used in the ritual. Harry slumped against the lab table behind him.

"That... was an immense waste of time," he sighed. Pushing off from the table he moved to the corner of the room where his bag was waiting and pulled a slim phial of white potion. "I'm going home. If he's not awake in five minutes, wave this under his nose." Harry paused a moment, glancing at the older boy, before he pulled a phial of purple potion from the potions pouch. "Give him this, too. I think he hit his head on the way down." And with that he apparated home, disallowing any protestations to his medical directions. Not that they would have protested, but it was the principle of the matter.

Indeed, under normal circumstances, this would be considered totally pointless. It probably was, but it still annoyed Harry because he arrived home to find Sirius already prepared to glomp him at the apparation point and was lying on the floor before he even realized what had happened. Sirius grabbed him and yanked him upright before side-along apparating him to the wizarding part of Osaka. He was kept away from the apartment for four hours before Sirius went off to the okama bar – Harry wondered vaguely what actually went down there, but dared not ask – and it was almost eleven already. And Harry had at least one hour of writing, ten, maybe twenty minutes of organization, and probably a forever of typing.

It was not a fun night. Harry wasn't half as proficient at typing as his peers, or indeed most people his age, and it took him even longer than expected. He didn't print until ten minutes before he had to head to school, and while he could focus for now, he was quite certain that by the time lunch rolled around he would be getting crabby. He wasn't too far off, as he made it through four classes before he started wanting to pull his wand on anyone who wouldn't let him sleep. Most especially his math teacher, because he assigned too much homework in conjunction with everything else that he had to do for Harry to get in a nap at any point. He didn't feel like overdosing on Perk-Me-Up either.

_And Sirius is probably home today_, Harry sighed mentally as he dragged his feet on his way to the Music Room. Fate had it out for him, so Sirius probably _would_ be home since he hadn't mentioned any grand adventures the night previous (actually, he might have, but Harry was busy working out what he would do for the rest of his essay to pay attention to the animagus during their outing), which brought his chance of having a nap before working on homework down to nil. He would make it, of course, and the math itself wasn't too hard, just time consuming. His earlier estimates may have been a bit colored by a need to sleep, but he still couldn't see himself getting everything that was due the next day – never mind the Chemistry work for Friday and the _new_ essay for next Wednesday – done more than half an hour before he had to leave campus.

On Wednesdays, Harry's class was about as far from the Third Music Room, better known as the Host Club Room, as could be because he ended Wednesdays with a class in French (which he had given up learning the normal way and so he had started taking Wit Sharpening potions before those classes so that he wouldn't lag at all) which was in the far corner of the East building. That meant that, at his slackened pace from lack of sleep (he considered moving faster, since it would wake him up, but didn't dare tire himself further) it took him roughly a quarter hour to get where he was going, what with all the dodging of idiots hanging about in the halls and simply wanting to keel over and die. It didn't, overall, make for a very happy Boy-Who-Lived, though he did toss back a Perk-Me-Up out of sheer annoyance with the world.

Thoughts swirling with theorems and other evils of the mathematical world, Harry barely noticed the Host Club were all lounging about in a bored manner (well, the twins were lounging, Ootori was typing, Suou was moping, Hani was eating cake, and Mori was reading what was probably a history text, but for them that could be considered "lounging") as he proceeded on his way to the side room.

One hour later, Harry was wondering if the world had it out for him more than he thought. Apparently the club had been cancelled that day because Fujioka had to be home right after school. No Fujioka meant that Suou would mope and be useless to the girls (seventy percent of all customers) who would designate him and this would make the Club for that day a waste of time and money. It would also bring down their reputation. Or so Ootori claimed. Either way, Hani apparently wanted to have some company while eating his cake and volunteered to help Harry with his math homework since it was his favorite subject. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but after hearing how everything he was learning could be applied to advanced calculus, Harry's sleepy head was spinning. On the bright side, he had a thorough understanding of the work and it was done. This seemed to be some sort of cue.

"Mom!" Suou whined, suddenly leaning on Ootori's table. The clicking of keys stopped, and Harry glanced up from his Chemistry text, a sense of morbid curiosity taking over his flagging concentration; what would the half-Frenchman do? "I'm bored."

The typing resumed, albeit at a slightly slower pace. "That's nice, Tamaki," Ootori stated flatly.

"Let's play a game!" That one sentence spelled death for Harry, and he was prepared to apparate out then and there, but Hani leapt forward from his couch and latched onto Harry's arm, giving him a starry gaze.

"You'll play too, won't you Harry-chan?" Hani asked hopefully, giving a look that would make the mountains themselves bow to each childish whim of the seventeen year old (or four (2), depending on how one looked at it). Harry had no hope of escape. "Let's play hide and seek, okay? Tama-chan can be it!"

"Good luck, Tono!" Kaoru and Hikaru spouted as they stood from their own couch where they had undoubtedly been plotting evil things.

"Wait, I –" Harry stopped, seeing the hopeful look on Hani's face. He knew the older boy would be able to take it if he said no, but he hadn't lied to Fred and George the week previous; he envied the guy for being able to enjoy his childhood, and he wouldn't be spiteful because of that jealousy. He didn't have it in him to do something like that when faced with such a face, really. "Fine. Just one game, though. I still have some homework to get done before I go home."

"Only if you're the last one found," Hani agreed, and with that Suou started counting to one hundred and everyone scattered (except Ootori; he calmly closed his computer and stared walking to the door). Harry let out a sigh and contemplated using his cloak so that he wouldn't be found but decided against it. Might as well try to win fair and square. He slipped off his shoes so that he wouldn't make a sound as he ran, his socks ready to cushion any noise from his feet slapping the marble.

Running through the halls of Ouran, Harry was soon lost. He never really went anywhere in this building as all his classes, excepting the core courses that he took with 1-A, were in the East Building, so he wasn't familiar with the top floor of the South building. It wasn't winding like the Hogwarts halls, but he still had no clue _where_ he was in relation to anything else. Unfortunately, that lack of spatial awareness meant that he came unexpectedly upon a staircase and he tried to skid to a stop.

Socks on polished marble, traction does not make.

About five seconds after Harry made this association, he was hoping that the fall wouldn't be too bad and that Ootori would call an ambulance for him. But he never got even within a half meter of the stairs as something (two hands, as a matter of fact) snagged his arms and held him firmly even as his feet shot up, allowing him to fall on his butt gracelessly.

A moment's pause. "Ow," Harry murmured as the hands released him and he stood up, silently cursing his own practicality regarding noise. "Thanks..." he trailed off as he turned about, only slightly surprised to see the tallest Host standing before him. "Mori-senpai."

"Aa," Mori nodded his recognition towards the younger boy. He turned left and continued on his own way, and Harry decided to follow until he could figure out where he was. Not even halfway down the corridor (Harry recognized it as being part of the third year section), a loud shout of "ONE HUNDRED" echoed through the halls and Harry groaned almost inaudibly. He was certain that they were only a few halls from the music room, which meant he would be found easily even if he were to hide then and there.

It took him ten seconds to register what happened next.

The first realization was that Mori had grabbed his wrist and put him in a room. The second realization was that he was alone in the room, which was dark. Thirdly, there were various items crowding around him. It was also a very small room, with no windows and no means of escape.

Harry was hyperventilating almost immediately after he figured out that last point, turning around in the cramped space in hopes of finding a way to get out. He'd come in through a door after all! But his hands scrambled against the wood, finding no purchase within the frame, and the cracks between the door and its frame were far too thin to give him any hope. He thought perhaps to rush it and pressed his shoulder against the cool, smooth wood – the walls everywhere were closing in, he could _feel_ them – but he slipped and fell to his knees. The ceiling... was the ceiling really just inches above his head?

His cheeks felt hot, but Harry wasn't paying attention to that. He was a bit caught up with being able to feel the walls ghosting against his skin in the shrinking room and – footsteps. Uncle Vernon. He choked back a sob, curling in on himself to keep away from the walls, trying to trick his own mind into thinking he was outside and safe but he wasn't and he knew it. Everything seemed suddenly darker and Harry barely noticed.

* * *

"Harry-chan is really good at hiding, right Takashi?" Hani asked from his perch on his fellow senior's shoulders. The smallest Host had been the first found, followed by the twins and then Mori. They were all following Tamaki around as he searched for the last two: Kyouya and Harry.

"Aa," Mori agreed, inclining his head slightly, but not enough to upset his charge. That wasn't his opinion at all, of course, because he didn't actually know how good the boy was at hiding. Mori knew that Harry probably didn't wander up to the third year area except to get to the music room on one end and the chemistry room on the other, and by his almost falling down the stairs it was obvious he'd never explored that part of the building. But Mori wasn't going to help find him until the end; if the first year wanted to study, they should let him. It's hard to have fun when work is hanging over your shoulder, trying to guilt you into doing it.

But Mori said nothing beyond the basic agreement and continued walking behind Hikaru and Kaoru with his best friend on his shoulders as they searched the lower floor of the building. It took only five more minutes to find Kyouya sitting in the Central Library tapping away at his laptop as if they weren't playing a commoner game. Knowing him, _he_ wasn't even if _they_ were.

"Looks like Harry-kun wins," Kaoru noted idly as his twin yawned. "Should we bother looking for him or just call to tell him the game's over?"

"Do we even have his cell phone number?" Hikaru asked curiously, pulling out his phone to check before snapping it shut. "I don't. Tono?"

Tamaki looked at the twins in confusion for a moment. "Why would I know his number?"

"I've got it," Kyouya informed the group before the debate could go any further. His phone was already in his hand as he started following the rest of the group back to the Club room. If it weren't for his promise to Sirius to help Harry relax, he probably wouldn't have even stayed at school that day. Halfway up the stairs his brow furrowed before clicking his phone shut. "He didn't pick up."

"Potter probably thinks we're trying to sound him out," Tamaki waved it off. "Try again when we're in the room." As if Kyouya _actually_ took orders! But he agreed. They continued their trek, becoming more of a blob than the organized line they had been.

Back in the room, everyone returned to their accustomed places as Kyouya pulled out his phone again and pressed a few buttons before holding it up to his ear, waiting for it to start ringing.

"PING!" Everyone in the room jumped slightly as the sonar ping erupted from Hani and Mori's side of the room. "PING!" Mori slowly stood and picked up Harry's discarded bag from its position by his discarded shoes, reaching into the side pouch where the pinging was emanating from. "PING!" He flipped it open.

"Aa," Mori's voice echoed across the connection to Kyouya's before they both closed the phones.

"Well..." Kyouya trailed off, looking slightly surprised. "I suppose we ought to go find him before he falls asleep on us, shouldn't we?" The phone fell back in his pocket as he paused in thought. "He'll probably come out on his own, but he looked half-dead all afternoon, so he really might fall asleep waiting to be found. I wouldn't put it past him to have nodded off already. Does anyone have any idea of where to start?"

Most of the Hosts were surprised when Mori nodded and walked out of the room, still carrying the non-Hosts bag. Hani not so much, but then, he _was_ Hani and tended to know everything when it came to his friend, even things that he wasn't told to begin with. Shrugging, the remaining Hosts followed, figuring they had nothing better to do.

They arrived in the third year class hallway without any words passing. Mori stopped about midway in the hall, in front of the door to one of the school's broom closets and knocked. The sound reverberated through the hallway, but no one answered. Mori looked slightly surprised, but decided to go ahead. After all, Harry wouldn't have left without his bag, especially if he had a lot of homework left to do. The door was opened, and what happened was a mild surprise to the assembled students.

Harry fell out, apparently having been slumped against the door. They had been half-expecting him to be asleep, though the fact that the loud knock hadn't woken him, especially if he'd been pressed against the door, was kind of odd. Hani was the first to do anything and leaned over the young wizard, spying red skin and tear-stained cheeks under the boy's arm. Moving said arm, he found that Harry's glasses were smashed into his nose which he supposed could have caused the redness, but it was a bit farfetched. Hani pulled up one puffy eyelid and sighed.

"He's unconscious," he informed them. If Harry had gone down for a short nap, he would either have been woken very easily or have been in REM sleep by then, and from the lack of movement in his eyes, the dilated pupils, and the fact that he wasn't awake, it was obvious that he'd passed out or something similar. "Takashi, was he fine when you saw him earlier?"

"Aa," Mori nodded. His own brow was furrowed now as he looked at the crumpled form. The muffled sound of ringing came from Kyouya's phone, which was already pressed against his ear.

"Hello, Sirius' phone, Sirius speaking," the other end – Sirius – said when the ringing stopped.

"Hello Sirius, it's Kyouya," said boy informed.

"Calling about a success, I hope?"

"We got him out of his shell for the day, but that's not why I'm calling. Harry's unconscious."

The phone was immediately pulled from Kyouya's ear as Sirius was shouting in a panicked manner. "What happened? Was he attacked? I bet it was that bastard Malfoy! No, he's in prison... probably Avery then! That bastard! I'll kill him! Is Harry alright? He wasn't hit too hard, was he?" The shouts died off and Kyouya returned the phone to its proper position.

"He wasn't attacked," Kyouya said in a placating tone. "We were playing hide and seek. We've just found him, and he's unconscious."

The other end was silent for a moment. "Where was he?"

"A closet."

"Shit!" Sirius roared into the phone. Kyouya winced. "He's going to be hell when he wakes up... listen, Harry's claustrophobic, okay? He must've had a panic attack, and he'll still be panicking that when he wakes up, trust me. Do you have his bag with you?"

"Yes. Mori-senpai grabbed it before we came to find him."

"Good. Either give to phone to him or put it on speaker-phone, will you?" Kyouya complied, allowing Sirius' voice to punctuate the entire group. "Okay. Mori, open up Harry's bag and open the inside zipper of the flap. Inside there should be a bunch of glass phials. They're there, right?"

"Aa," Mori agreed, surprised by how many there were in the slim coverlet. The flap didn't even have a bulge in it!

"Pull out the blue ones; one of them ought to be a baby-blue color. When he wakes up, one of you is going to have to get him to drink half of that phial," Sirius' voice seemed a little nervous. "I'd do it myself, but I'm in transit to Ireland right now, and the next flight wouldn't get me back to Japan for five hours. Trust me when I say this will be difficult, alright? I have trouble doing it sometimes; Harry can be right vicious when he's panicked. If possible though, try to get him back to the apartment before he comes to. Okay?" Various noises of assent came from the Hosts. "Great. I'm really sorry about this, but I have to go; my plane is boarding. I'll call Harry as soon as I've landed again. Thanks!"

The line was dead before anything more could be said, and Kyouya slipped his phone away. Standing in a semi-circle around an unconscious Harry, it could be construed as an odd scene. Mori broke it as he leaned down picked up said unconscious first year.

"You're taking him, Takashi?" Asked Hani, to which the gentle giant only nodded. "I'll get his shoes." Like a dart, the sugar-packed senior ran down the hall. Meanwhile, Mori was having a small dilemma. Carrying a boy bridal style would be weird, but a firemen's carry wouldn't be good for Harry's health given he was prone to panicking upon waking from his unconscious state. It would also put his feet in position to kick a very unpleasant place if he woke up while Mori was carrying him; Sirius hadn't said what he would do when awake, but if he had another panic attack there would probably be kicking involved.

Just because he punished himself for the occasional failing in odd ways did _not_ make Mori a masochist.

In front of the school, he settled the younger boy into a sitting position while he called his driver to come pick them up. Hani arrived soon and wrestled Harry's shoes onto his feet, placing Mori's bag on the sidewalk before going back in to do who knew what. Mori guessed eating cake or talking with their fellow Hosts. Maybe packing up, since the building was going to close in an hour or so.

The limo arrived a bit sooner than expected, though it was long enough for Mori to stare at nothing for a while. He pulled out the straps of both bags and flung them over his shoulder before picking up his current responsibility; it was, after all, his fault that Harry had had his panic attack. The boy was strapped into a long seat that had been given special straps for Mori's own naptimes, since it weirded out the driver when he was tired. Mori had no clue _why_ people were always so weird when they mentioned him being tired, but he figured it was pretty inconsequential and pushed the thought away as he strapped Harry in and told the driver where to take them.

It occurred to him that he actually had no clue which of the apartments was Harry's, or where to find a key. He'd rather not break the door down like he tended to do to the infirmary door when Hani was sick; it would look odd enough that he was carrying an unconscious boy into the complex in the first place, and he knew from observation that Harry shied from attention.

Ten minutes into the ride and his thoughts derailed from anything to do with the first year to what he was going to have for dinner (his mother had mentioned a western style meal for the evening), a sharp inhalation of breath caught his attention. Harry was awake and pressing against his restraints. Mori was ready to go over there to give him the blue medicine, even though the car was moving, when the belts suddenly snapped.

Perhaps Mori had underestimated the other boy's strength, though the idea tended to be outrageous. As an expert of Kendo, he could read the body very well, including gauging physical strength through a quick glossing over, and he knew quite well that Harry wasn't built to be a powerhouse, but rather for speed. He should not have been able to break the belts, but they had all snapped simultaneously, the buckles lying broken on the floor as the younger boy scrambled, eyes wide and questing for something. In the back of his mind, Mori had an idea, but he was too busy thinking of a way to take down the other boy without injuring him to care.

That was how Harry found himself tackled to the floor of a moving vehicle with a boy that outweighed him by at least four or five stone (3) on top of him, forcing a phial of calming potions down his throat.

Two minutes later, both were sitting, properly buckled into their seats, and not talking. Harry wasn't talking because he was cursing himself for being so weak as to lose his cool immediately upon finding himself within an enclosed area (he had opened the window next to him as soon as he'd calmed down enough to think and had Mori off of him). He should have apparated to a better spot, or pulled his wand out of his sleeve to open the door, _anything_! But he hadn't, and so he found himself in a rather odd situation. He figured Mori wasn't talking because he was Mori.

"Sorry," Mori said suddenly. Harry jumped, looking at his tall companion. Striking gray eyes bored into blazing emerald.

"What have you got to be sorry for?" He really was rather confused on that point; Mori hadn't done anything. Harry had already thanked him for calming him down, and now the guy was apologizing? Mori had pretty much saved the wizard twice that day, after a fashion. The fall down the stairs could have killed him; Harry felt he owed a life-debt to the older boy. Though the fact that he was actually talking to Harry – for the first time saying something other than his customary "aa" – was a step up.

"You said you like to see the sky," Harry's eyes glanced at the open window. When had he said that? He recalled quickly the Karuizawa incident a month ago, and realized that was probably when; they had been rooming together the first night, after all.

"You couldn't have known," Harry shook his head quickly, hoping to dissolve whatever guilt there was regarding the situation. He'd seen the guilty look that hung about the older boy for a week after "the cavity incident" and didn't want that same emotional weight (well, it wouldn't be the same since they hardly knew each other and Harry was very much _not_ Hani) to be caused by him. "And you just wanted to help. If you hadn't hidden me I'd probably end up playing all day and never get my homework done."

Mori remained silent, head turned to his own window. Harry sighed mentally. Just great, one comment that he'd probably made while half-asleep was making the older boy feel some measure of guilt for something that was in no way his fault. He really couldn't have known, but Harry could see already that he was down.

_Fan-bloody-tastic_, he though sarcastically as he exited the limo. It was his entire fault, too.

**Author's Note: I know the phobia-bit is very clichéd, which is why I changed it up a bit. Most phobia-moments involve rescuing rather than causing. Thus, as I said, I'm changing things up.**

**And the bit with the candles... oddly enough, that really does have a point beyond making Harry exhausted the next day. It probably won't come up for a while, but eventually. Really. I totally mean it... don't you believe me?**

(1) This is an actual manga. Couldn't help adding it in; I was reading it when I started this chapter. It's awful though. Don't read it. Ever. Please, for the sake of your sanity... I managed to get through about three volumes, which was a miracle. Darn my boredom! (Okay, so it wasn't that bad, I just hate purposefully-embarrassing-in-a-stupid-way moments)

(2) Hani's birthday is on leap day, therefore he's only celebrated his birthday on the proper day four times and so he's four years old when he's been around for seventeen, get it? It was in his character profile in the manga... somewhere. (Yes, I know in the first episode she called him oldest, but later she gave him a star sign that didn't coincide with that, Pisces I think, and she put his birthday on the 29th of February in his profile.)

(3) One stone is fourteen pounds. So that's saying Mori is probably 42-56 pounds heavier than him. Makes sense since Harry is small underweight and Mori is big and muscular (muscle is very compact so he's not muscle-bound). (Harry is around 115 lbs, Mori would be probably somewhere around 160-180, not sure because I don't much pay attention to that stuff, but I figured I could note it.)


	8. Chapter 8

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, _**FILLER CHAPTER**_

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 8

It had about three weeks since the game of hide and seek, and Harry was rather annoyed. Nothing bad had happened; it wasn't like someone had revealed his claustrophobia to the school, and the twins weren't taunting him or anything. In fact, the matter was never even brought up by the Hosts. Well, they hadn't had time to anyway because of the festival where the school was basically going into hyper show-off mode, the Host Club in particular because they had been made the main event (after some pointless race that had been rigged against them; the Black Magic Club hadn't participated in it, so Harry hadn't paid any attention).

No, what annoyed him had nothing to do with their behavior, or even the Hosts in general. He was more annoyed with himself. Harry had been even worse about focusing than before the summer vacation, and had taken even more to people watching. Mostly Host watching. In fact, whenever he snuck into the main area of the Third Music Room under his invisibility cloak, Harry found himself watching a certain Host and feeling terribly guilty.

Mori had been spending a lot more time sitting in the window than he usually did, his presence a heavy feeling on the entire room but generally unnoticeable. It was annoying that he even noticed, but Harry did, and he knew that whatever was going on to make the stoic senior so morose was probably his own fault because of the stupid closet thing. It was Harry who owed Mori a life debt, not the other way around! Harry had even gone so far as to inform the other boy that, even if he _had_ done something wrong, the whole saving-his-life thing would have absolved it about a dozen times over at the very least. It hadn't helped at all.

Admittedly, Harry was ahead in magical study compared to his Hogwarts peers, but he had found out that the "oldest and best school of magic in the world" was really just in the top ten when it came to education, and was the twentieth oldest school of magic after several in Asia, a little known Italian (once Roman) school, another in Greece, and one in Egypt that had been around for several millenia. They were also very much inefficient because of the way the school was run. Overall, Harry wasn't even up to pace with the average fourteen-year-old Japanese wizard.

The fact that it was his sixteenth birthday didn't make him feel any better.

Sighing in frustration, Harry arranged his notes for the festival. As the third student in the class (how he managed it, even Harry didn't know), he was going to be spending a portion of his time working as an investigator to help visitors for the 1-A part of the festival; Le Agence de Détectives Privés. Or, as Harry called it, the Private Detective Agency. Hikaru had whapped him on the head for it, but he didn't much care. At least _his_ method made sense.

"Harry-kun," Harry glanced up from his desk. A name plate had been set in front of him so that introductions to parents wouldn't be necessary, but he had no idea who this woman was. The fact that she assumed familiarity was annoying, but he let it pass; rich people were strange, in ways different than Harry was used to, but he _was_ used to dealing with strange people and things.

"Yes ma'am," He stood and bowed, straightening his vest as he stood. "How may I help you?"

She was about the same height as him, so a bit tall for a Japanese woman, and slim. It was her hair that clued him in to who she might be though; it was the exact same color as the Hitachiin twins', and in a similar style. Her coat and dress didn't disabuse the notion, as it just screamed ritzy... not that everyone else's didn't. The fact that her looks combined with those of the man standing over her shoulder could very well have made the hellish boys cemented the idea in his mind.

"So you're Potter Harry," she tapped her lip with her index finger, giving him a once over. "Pretty cute, though you should try contacts instead of glasses..." her gaze flicked up to his forehead, "and good job matching your skin tone! I can barely even tell." Harry's eyes widened dramatically. _Their_ mother knew about him, if he was correct as to her identity. "I'm Hitachiin Yuzuha." She stuck out her hand to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Hitachiin-shi," Harry responded amicably, taking note to be careful of the woman and her husband. Bringing her hand lightly to his lips, he let her go quickly, but still polite and unrushed. "I take it from your scrutiny that you have heard of me, then?"

The man nodded in her stead (Harry could already tell that this was probably quite out of character for him), and held out his own hand to shake, which Harry did. "My mother is a squib, so we know a bit about you. Thank you for taking _him_ down, whether you meant to or not; he probably wouldn't have come here for years, maybe not even decades, since he'd go after Europe first, but the entire world was in danger no matter what the government and the papers say." Harry noted that he didn't introduce himself, but refrained from commenting; again, the rich were strange beings.

He wasn't entirely sure what to say, either. In the past, everyone who wanted to thank him mobbed him, tried to cozy on up to him, but these people weren't doing any such thing. It was nice. "I... I didn't really do anything," he murmured, shifting his feet slightly, glad that there was still a table between them. "But you're welcome, I suppose."

"It was nice to meet you," Yazuha smiled at him easily, the same smile that Harry associated with her sons – when they weren't trying to seem evil that is. "If you take my advice on the contacts, you wouldn't go out of place as one of my models, actually. Offer's open. Good bye!" She waved, he waved back, and they departed.

"Potter," the class rep, Aiya, said thirty minutes later, "you're off for the rest of our section. Just thought you should know."

Harry nodded his thanks and stacked the notes he had been going over with a girl from 1-B on the desk. Had an hour really passed by so quickly? Well, he wasn't going to complain; he would see the sights of the festival and head home to make dinner before the dance if at all possible. So long as he avoided the Central Salon, the twins weren't likely to notice him leaving at any point in time, as they'd made it their personal mission to make sure that he was social at times in the past weeks. (Well, Hani had done his part, and Ootori seemed to pull him out of his shell on occasion as well, but the main annoyances were the twins.) He wouldn't have put it past his godfather to tell them it was his birthday, either.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Hani and Mori were, for some inane reason, in the Agence with a tray of cakes and dressed in what could easily be assumed to be their costumes for whatever it was 3-A was doing (a Venetian theme, Harry was pretty sure), but he took care to not pay much attention. He just wanted to get out of this stupid costume (he'd never been one for tweed) and into a suit or something.

An hour later found Harry browsing through the 2-A area, "Commoner's Kiosk." He had a strong feeling it was Suou's suggestion, but had fun since he'd never played regular carnival games, and the Japanese ones were fun; he had especially enjoyed trying to catch fish with a small paddle-like thing and the standard ring-toss that he had heard the Dursleys always complain were rigged. Funny, considering he was pretty good at it and won a few stuffed toys.

It was as he was throwing darts at balloons that his phone rang. He collected the stuffed bunny that he had won (maybe he would give it to Hani; he had never had a stuffed toy before and felt it would be silly to get his first at sixteen) and flipped the phone open as he migrated to a quieter corner.

"Potter-kun," it was Ootori then. "Would you come down to the Central Salon for a few minutes? My father is here and wishes to talk to you."

"Alright, I suppose I can," there went the "avoid the Hosts so they don't keep him behind" plan then. Well, he could probably slip out after talking with the man, or at _some_ point. If they wanted him to stay behind he could say he was going to go see Venice in the West Gym or something. He hadn't been yet, so there was no reason not to give that as his excuse, and he could even actually go to check it out. He still had a good while before the dance started after all, so it wouldn't be an odd thing to do at all... and when had he taken to anticipating that they would waylay him?

It was hardly the point, but Harry wound his way through the crowds of well dressed men and women to the Central Salon, which was absolutely packed. How was he supposed to find any one person? Everyone was crowded around various tables with some of the Hosts intermingling at points (Fujioka, Hani, and Mori were all conspicuously absent), some were indulging in games (he was certain he saw Suou playing back-gammon with someone), others merely chatting. As the PA had said, the Salon was for relaxing. The Hosts that he saw were all wearing horridly frou-frou outfits too, with puffy collars and everything; Harry was reminded of Nearly-Headless Nick's attire.

"Glad you came, Potter-kun," Harry jumped, whirling around to see the youngest Ootori standing beside him. "My father is in the East corner. Please be sure to enjoy yourself, and I hope you're having a happy birthday." He walked away, leaving Harry slightly flummoxed and aggravated that Sirius really _had_ told one – if not all – of the Hosts his birthday. Then again, there was also his file that the company would have given to the Ootori Group upon request. It was likely that had his birthday in it.

"Ootori-san," He bowed properly upon arriving at the table where Ootori Yoshio was sitting, "your son said you wished to speak with me?" A good, neutral start. Taking the seat opposite the older gentleman, Harry prepared himself for whatever was meant to be said.

"Yes," the older man nodded, the glare on his glasses concealing his eyes in just the same manner that Harry was accustomed to seeing from the man's third son. "I wanted to talk to you about the apparent business deal you have going with my son, regarding the potions that you send to our house every month."

"Kyouya-senpai has been very accommodating," it felt rather odd to call the older boy by his given name, but using the family name could refer to almost anyone in the family and it seemed a bit too distant given the conversation. "At home, I'm afraid I don't have much opportunity for studying or doing homework, as my guardian is rather... eccentric, and believes that I should focus less on school and more on seeing what there is in the world. Your son gave me the opportunity to have time to work on my studies that I wouldn't have time to do otherwise. He is quite kind about the matter, as are the rest of the Host Club."

Sure, it was a _slightly_ base tactic to slip in compliments like that to the Shadow King's father, but the older boy really did deserve them. He was going to be a great leader of the Ootori Group if all went well, and Harry suspected that he would get along better with him than his brothers in future dealings; as the distributor of the "miracle cures" that the Ootori Group were becoming notorious for using, he was an important connection. In his one meeting with the older Ootori brothers, he found them lacking in personality and far too lax compared to their brother.

"I am glad to hear that," he nodded, "I have spoken with my son on the matter, as it is _his_ contract with you that could be tampered with, and he agrees that perhaps we could rework it to have the extra supply sent to Ootori clinics. Even at four hundred phials, it is plain that he now has more of your potions in a personal stock than he could possibly use before he is even out of college, and his training with them is quite in depth already. If you are agreeable, then this deal could, perhaps, even be worked in your favor."

"I do not mind rerouting the supply if that is what Kyouya-senpai wishes," Harry agreed. "It is no hassle, I assure you, Ootori-shi, and I can certainly see the benefits in such a deal." Though how an agreement for having a quiet room to study in could really be worked in his favor he didn't know. Obviously, he was missing something.

"In fact," ah, here was whatever was going to be missed, "I was wondering if we could work a contract between us. I understand that you are as knowledgeable about the effects of the medicines you sell and dosages as many of the doctors at my own Hospitals and others that your company services, correct? In fact, I've heard that you had an entire class devoted to them before you came to High School."

"That's right. My last school was... unorthodox, and the courses that were most important to the curriculum there were not the same as those at most schools, I'm afraid, but highly educational regardless." Aside from the fact that he was about two years behind the rest of the country. "I've spent a lot of time researching how best to utilize my company's products, and as time goes on I may even start developing medicines for the company, though I'm afraid that it's not my forte. Why do you ask?"

The words that Ootori Yoshio said after that were rather... shocking, actually. He was offered a place at one of the Hospitals to study and work with the doctors there to help integrate new potions into the usual repertoire since Potter-Evans gained distribution rights of roughly ten potions a year as well as helping to train new doctors in the application of such potions. And it truly was worked in his favor, but...

"I'm afraid I do have my personal studies to think about, sir," Harry scratched the back of his head. Why was he even saying this?

It was a good deal, and it could work. He could go on the days he usually spent at the Host Club without them distracting him and not only get the chance to study, but make himself useful to the medical community. He would get hands-on experience that doctors in-training would kill for, learn things about human anatomy and physiology that could greatly help him in deciding what potions to use when a person was injured (because, while he was accustomed to the potions that they could sell to muggles and several wizards-only, it would be nice to have an idea of how to deal with potions he didn't know as well), and show him what the big problems are so he could press for those distribution rights. But something was holding him back. He didn't _want_ to leave his days at the Host Club and, though he recognized the danger of it, he really didn't want to.

"I can come in on weekends to help with training, but I have alternate studies to regular subjects to keep up on as well," he allowed, feeling stupid for refusing, but... well, he _liked_ the Host Club, no matter how hard he tried not to.

"Of course," Yoshio nodded, a small smirk playing across his lips. "We can work out details, say, next week in my office. I will have Kyouya inform you of the time."

He was very much ready to leave when the small meeting was over, slipping away through the crowds and being careful to keep a hold on his bag of prizes from 2-A's event. It wasn't that Harry _liked_ them, though the stuffed dog was cute (maybe he could give that to Sirius for a laugh... he certainly wasn't going to keep it for _himself_) but he could do something with them, he supposed, like sacrifice them to whatever ritual Nekozawa decided to try next or something. On the bright side, he'd been horrible at fish-catching and didn't have to worry about shaking them to death. That would have been a bit of a nerve-jerker.

Not for the first time since coming to Ouran, Harry was becoming quickly convinced that the world was conspiring against him, or, at the very least, the Host Club was. They didn't actually _do_ anything, and perhaps that was what aggravated him the most; they weren't forcing him to stay.

"You okay, Fujioka-san?" The girl in question was collapsed onto a table, likely exhausted, and looking slightly green around the edges.

"Y-yeah," she murmured into her arms as the PA announced that the dance would be starting. "Just a little motion sick." She glanced up, tilting her head slightly. Harry had no clue why she would be motion sick though; the room wasn't exactly going anywhere. "Tamaki-senpai brought in carriages..." Which explained it quite well.

Harry dug into his bag, looking through phials until he came up with a pale green, semi-transparent potion. "Try this, it ought to settle your stomach." She thanked him and drank the liquid in one go, looking better immediately. So Harry left the room, feeling rather stupid, and apparated home before he could be dragged to the dance. Just because he could admit to actually _liking_ the stupid Hosts, it didn't mean that he was dumb enough to go to a dance. He had no clue how and didn't want a repeat of the Yule Ball.

* * *

When Harry apparated into the flat the next day after picking something up for Sirius from Yokohama, he was floored, literally. Sirius had glomped him for no reason, apparated them somewhere – a forested area of a park – and was dragging him into the regular part before he could even protest. Harry noted, in the corner of his mind, that the cherry blossoms had bloomed for about the third time since he had come to Japan, which was more than a little outrageous considering they were supposed to bloom once a year. Even weirder since the trees in their neighborhood were in the summer cycle (unlike Ouran).

This contemplation of the impossibilities of Tokyo seasons (hadn't it been _Autumn_ yesterday despite being midsummer?) was stopped abruptly when Harry saw what his godfather had cooked up, at least to an extent. Maybe the country – or their part of it, at least, because he didn't remember Yokohama having the trees in bloom – had a team of Weather Witches working on it.

It was a nice park, grass, trees, a playground off in the distance, and quite a few picnic tables and park benches scattered about in strategic places. There was one picnic table that was rather... _eye-catching_ was the best way to say it, perhaps. Balloons were tied to the legs of the table and benches to float prettily in the slight breeze, with sparkly confetti scattered over the area so that no matter what angle someone looked at if from, they would be blinded by at least two thousand glaring specks. A small stack of brightly wrapped presents were on one end of the table with a birthday cake – fancier than the ones Harry usually made – was next to them.

Perhaps the most drawing bit was that the Host Club members were all seated around that particular table and watching Sirius drag him over.

Harry dragged his heels into the sod beneath his feet, hoping to escape. He could apparate away, or maybe hex Sirius pink with orange polka-dots, _anything_ but what was obviously planned. A birthday party was neither something he wanted, nor needed.

"Sirius, I swear to Merlin if you don't let me go _right now_ I'll hex you," he snapped, "I... I'll make chocolate taste like tapioca pudding or something and then you'll be screwed!" He was twisting his arm, trying to escape, and wishing that the Hosts would _stop looking at him_ because it was making his feel very put-in-the-spotlight and awkward. Why couldn't he have gotten a _nice_ person as a godfather? Remus would have fit the bill twenty-nine days out of thirty, and he certainly wouldn't force him to do _this_.

"C'mon Harry! It's going to be fun," Sirius grinned a doggish grin to which Harry only scowled. He'd never been to a birthday party in the first place, never mind one of his own and _this madman had to let him go_!

"It's not going to be fun! It's going to be horridly awkward and I'll never talk to you again, I swear it!" But Sirius succeeded in dragging him to the table and forced him to stand in front of the Hosts (the push given almost making him trip and land face first in the cake). Harry grimaced and straightened up, turned for half a second to glare coldly at Sirius before sighing. "I'm beyond sorry about this. The man is a menace to society and I'm very sorry that he made you come to this... thing."

"No way! It's just like I always imagined a commoner party would be like!" Suou piped happily and Harry just stared at him. "Sirius-san ("You don't need to use honorifics with me," Sirius corrected, but was ignored) even brought commoner party games!" He was pointing excitedly to a tree and Harry twitched at the sight of what had been hung on the tree; a bright paper piñata. Where had Sirius even heard of them?

"Harry-chan, it's your birthday, it'll be fun!" Hani was looking excited, jumping up and down with Usa-chan (honey-blossom necklace still in tact and not-wilting) in his arms as always. "He didn't _make_ us do it. We want to. And everyone needs a birthday party, right Takashi?"

"Aa," Mori nodded, face stoic. Sometimes Harry wondered if he was actually paying attention to what was said or just agreeing because he didn't want to bother listening. The answer was too elusive to bother answering.

"Well _I_ don't need a birthday party, and I'm not entirely sure what possessed him to think I do," Harry sighed internally. He'd only just admitted to himself that he might actually enjoy their company and suddenly Sirius jumps a surprise birthday party on him even after he'd said quite plainly a week before that he _didn't_. (Actually, he'd given the excuse that the festival was on his birthday, but apparently Sirius hadn't gotten the hint.) "Look, I'm just going to leave, and –"

Before he could even finish his sentence, Kaoru (or was it Hikaru?) had his face inches from Harry's own, causing him to jump backwards with a startled yelp, trip, and fall on his butt unceremoniously. Both twins laughed and a few chuckles could be heard from others present. Harry's eye twitched in annoyance. Did they _have_ to do stuff like that?

"That's not polite, Harry-kun," the twins said in unison as they both stood over him, reaching out a hand to pull him up. "It's _your_ party so _you_ have to be here." They both heaved him up to his feet and grinned identical grins. "What are we supposed to do first?"

Harry just stood blinking dumbly a moment before he shrugged. "How should I know? I've never been to a birthday party before."

While to him it was the most natural of claims – in that he really _hadn't_ ever been to a birthday party, let alone one for him – Harry soon realized that it was probably not the best sort of thing to say as the Hosts all looked shocked (he noted that Mori had at least been paying attention then, because he looked suitably surprised as well). It wasn't normal to never have been to a birthday party, nor to have never had one of his own.

"Poor Harry-chan!" Hani broke the silence quite easily and ran the three steps it took to reach him, accidentally-on-purpose shoving the twin terrors out of his face. "You can hug Usa-chan!" And he did proffer the bunny, though _why_ Harry didn't understand. Still, he thanked the small senior, slightly confused, and sat on a bench with the rabbit in his lap and feeling utterly ridiculous.

Apparently the others took this as their cue, and Suou was suddenly directing what everyone was going to do. It was... vaguely interesting, Harry supposed, that they actually took the crazy blond man's orders considering Harry had made it pretty obvious that he _really_ didn't care.

By the day's end, however, Harry could be cited as admitting that "it was kind of fun, I guess."

**Author's Note: I am the worst person ever at selecting genres. I got help picking the genres for this story, but they are still subject to change if only because I am weird like that... though the Friendship/Romance thing is probably as close as I can figure for it. There is other stuff though.**

**Other than that for this memo? Nada.**

(1) The honorific "-shi" is respectful, between -san and -sama.


	9. Chapter 9

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 9

At roughly midday on the second Sunday of August, Harry James Potter could be found at an Ootori Hospital informing a group of high and mighty doctors – who knew far more than him about medicine as fresh graduates from prestigious medical schools – how to do their jobs. Said doctors weren't too happy about it, either.

"Kishimoto-sensei (1)," he sighed in exasperation, "every kilogram counts. This isn't like giving a kid a Tylenol or something. You have to be very exact when doling out pain relievers of this sort. They are absorbed into the body even as they move down the esophagus and they get integrated fully into the system as soon as it hits the stomach. It's fine to even as much as a full cup for the local relievers, but for wide-range you could _kill_ someone if you overdose them even so much as five milliliters! One milliliter per kilo, that's it."

"I _know_ Potter!" The doctor snapped even as he fixed the measurement.

Harry had been there since early in the morning, first seeing how the hospital used the potions and then helping in training some of the younger doctors who didn't have experience in using Potter-Evans products. Medical schools mostly didn't train with the potions because the chance of a doctor working at a hospital that used them was pretty low in Japan, or outside of Europe in general. Ootori only accepted the best doctors of a class into their hospitals, where the doctors were trained from scratch in how to use the potions.

And now that Harry had been called in for a mutual learning experience – his pay was to be lessons on anatomy and such – the new doctors weren't taking kindly to being trained by a sixteen year old kid who was shorter than most of them. The fact that he had already proven himself to have a better bedside manner than a few of them (he'd been in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts so many times that he knew how someone who was hurt wanted to be treated) hadn't improved things, either.

"I'm just impressing the importance on you," Harry shrugged as if the other _hadn't_ snapped at him so harshly. "I could just as easily leave you to the older doctors; most of them seem rather cranky." He paused looking over at the supervisor who Harry suspected was there mostly to see that Harry didn't drive his "students" insane. "Not you, Kokubunji-sensei. I was mostly talking about the guys working with the surgeon who didn't put the antiseptic draught on his gloves until _after_ cutting open his patient." They both wrinkled their noses. That surgeon had been fired less than a minute into the procedure. The report had come in two hours later that he was apparently in the early stages of Alzheimer's Disease, which even wizards couldn't cure, sadly. His co-workers were right bastards about the whole thing, too, _especially_ after they found out about the Alzheimer's.

A ping came from Harry's pocket and he was glad that they weren't in one of the "No Phones Or Die" areas of the hospital, though Kishimoto still glared at him as the phone was slipped from his pocket and he opened it. "Hello?"

"Potter! We're going to a commoner exhibition!" Suou veritably screeched through the line. Harry grimaced and pulled the phone from his ear for a moment before switching to a scowl. When had _he_ gotten this number? Last he recalled, it was only Ootori who had his cell number, not the evil blond who was far too annoying for his own good.

"That's nice, Suou-senpai, but what on earth has that got to do with me?" Harry ground out across the line. It was a fair question.

"You're coming with us!"

"No." He was as deadpan as possible, but apparently Suou didn't get it.

"Yes! We already get permission from your godfather! We're coming to get you!" A twitch was developing under Harry's eye. Sweet Circe! What was up with these stupid, spoiled, rich kids? "Be ready when we get there!"

"I'm not going; I already have plans in motion for the day, and you don't even know where I am," He snapped into the phone, pausing to glare at Kishimoto had apparently found his frustration funny. Harry knew that he probably did deserve it to an extent, since he was berating the young doctor for every little thing, but that didn't mean he would take it lightly. "Please leave me alone, Suou-senpai."

"But – !"

"Let me be! For Merlin's sake, we aren't friends Suou; you're a stuck-up rich guy who seems to have made it your mission in life to get on my nerves, not a friend and barely an acquaintance!" That was more than a little harsh, Harry knew, but he was getting frustrated. Ever since the surprise party Sirius had sprung on him – so basically for the past week – Suou had taken charge of the "make Harry have fun" thing, which had included involving him in making soup for the Vice Principal. The attempt was obviously from pity. Pity was not something he enjoyed, either. "Good _bye_, Suou-senpai. You can tell the others I said hello."

Harry hung up before any response could be formulated (he hoped the older boy was growing mushrooms in a corner; it might mean he would stop with the pity at the very least) and turned on his heels, smiling in an obviously fraudulent (but in an "if you comment you die" sort of way) manner, and clapped his hands in front of him as he looked at the young doctors in the room.

"So, any questions regarding Pain Relieving dosages or can we move on to Calming Draughts?"

* * *

After school the next day, Harry was annoyed to note that the door to the music room was locked and (discretely) cast an _Alohamora_ on said door before redoing the lock. Ootori would wonder why it was unlocked... actually, Harry realized as he took his seat at his table in the side room, he would wonder how Harry had gotten in with the door still locked. It was a problem for another time though, as he was soon engrossed in reading about a strange winged horse called a "thestral."

Until muffled shouts (was someone commentating a fight or something?) came from outside, loud enough to be heard through the walls and – as he discovered upon entering the club room – the doors to the hallways as well. Turning the lock on the inside of the door, Harry poked his head out of the room and saw something that was shocking enough for Harry to open the door all the way, eyes wide and gaping.

Hani was being attacked by a boy who looked to be in middle school perhaps. It seemed almost that the younger boy looked like an older Hani with glasses... but the middle school uniform rather did give him away for being younger than the diminutive senior. They traded maneuvers for all of a minute and a half before the larger of the two pulled a collapse-able staff from behind his back and they returned to their fight with fervor. Harry just stared.

Suddenly, Hani was sent flying and Harry couldn't hold back a gasp. Had that kid really hurt Hani? Harry was already digging through his bag, trying to think of what potions he might need (being flung so far, he might have a concussion or something!) while the twins made their verdict known.

"Could this be Chika's first victory?" they asked no one in unison. The boy (Chika) stood panting with a small smile on his face.

"Finally... I've got you," the kid looked practically wicked from the angle Harry stood at, and he could hardly disagree. Why the heck were he and Hani fighting in the first place? The older was hardly a violent type, even if he was a strong martial artist, so the kid must have started it, and that was hardly sporting considering he'd brought a _weapon_ into the matter.

"No..." Harry's eyes flicked to the left where Mori was surveying the scene. Why hadn't he stopped them? Wasn't he supposed to protect Hani? It wasn't exactly an obligation, more a given, but _still_. "Mitsukuni won..."

To Harry's great surprise, Hani got up off of the floor as if he _hadn't_ just been tossed a good ten feet down the corridor, and seeming not at all worried about being attacked anymore. What had he missed? A glint of sunlight on metal caught his attention just as the self-designated commentators picked up their role again to explain that (apparently) Hani had thrown shuriken at the other boy to pin his pant legs to the floor. The weird little ninja throwing-stars were something Harry had seen only in flashes when he went into the parlor while living with the Dursleys if they had a ninja movie going, and he was always rushed out in case he got ideas.

He'd never thought they were actually _real_.

He could have gone back to his little studying area and ignored what happened next, but... it was odd. Apparently "Chika" was actually Haninozuka Yasuchika, Hani's little brother. Even as Harry was assimilating this information (he hadn't known that Hani had a brother), another surprise appearance came in the form of a boy in middle school uniform bearing one of the wooden swords Harry remembered were used in kendo and trailing a dust cloud; he also happened to look like a younger, vastly more expressive Mori. And he was taller than Harry, if only slightly, which didn't make him feel at all better about his height.

"Satoshi," even though Mori's tone was neutral, it sounded somehow... reprimanding. Was that even possible? The mini-Mori (Satoshi) wheeled around and looked at his larger counterpart in surprise, quickly being enamored by the sight somehow.

"Taka-nii-san!" Satoshi stood in front of his brother, getting his hair ruffled. (2)

Mori's little brother then. Harry slowly backed away, not wanting to know what was going on; even though he liked the majority of the Host Club members (Suou still grated his nerves when he went on about anything to do with "commoners"), they were not good for his sanity.

Hani dragged him back towards them when the group had congregated in the Club Room, so Harry wasn't going to learn about thestrals. He did, however, manage to grab his bag as the amazingly strong, child-sized martial artist pulled him from the room without so much as a "by your leave." It was useful considering Yasuchika was apparently rather bruised from his encounter with the kendo sword.

Harry wouldn't have even thought of the encounter much beyond all of this were it not for several things. First was that it was difficult to _not_ notice Yasuchika railing on his older brother for being childish, irresponsible, etc. Second was because he ended up mentally filing some of the things that were being said about the Haninozuka and Morinozuka families away in his mind since it was kind of interesting. Third was the odd dynamic between the younger Morinozuka and Haninozuka representatives compared to their older brothers. And, finally, it made Harry wonder what Mori would be like if he were as expressive as his younger brother... but since he didn't know what actually went on in the oldest Host's head, he couldn't really figure. For all he knew, Mori really didn't have much going on upstairs (despite being second in his class) and was really as robotic emotionally as he seemed.

That last point was doubtful, however, given the many little hints Harry picked up regarding the senior's emotions.

With the declaration that his brother must hate him, Hani went off to eat cake, and Harry escaped to continue his read for the day. He kept on being invaded by mental images of the seniors acting like their brothers, though, and it was kind of hard to concentrate with the thought of a berserker-Mori running around. It was too hilarious to really think about.

* * *

Black Magic Club the next day went as usual, though it ended early because Nekozawa was going to go pick up some new Shoujo manga for his little sister, so Harry was taking his time in leaving the room. He had barely made it down to the first floor when a (very fast) blur sped by him, creating a wake of air that almost made him lose balance. He gripped the stair railing, looking left at where the blur had gone. The back of Mori's head caught his attention, speeding away with Hani thrown over his shoulder. The rest of the Hosts, as well as the younger brothers of the two oldest, were not far behind in disrupting Harry's walk.

Fujioka was the one who noticed him as they passed, probably because she was the last in the pack and not running at ridiculous speeds. "Potter-kun, Chika-kun hurt Hani-senpai pretty badly; he's unconscious. Could you come with us?" She was already tugging at his arm, leading him down the hall. "You have lots of medicines with you all the time, right?" She looked genuinely worried for Hani, and Harry had to admit he was too, even without knowing what had happened at all. If being hit ten feet down a hall hadn't hurt him the day before, what had now?

"Right," Harry nodded, passing the girl with ease (years of running away from Dudley and through Hogwarts had gifted him with speed and endurance born of necessity). Everyone was obviously pretty worried about whatever had happened to Hani, and while Mori's reactions regarding his charge couldn't always be trusted – the guy could have some pretty extreme reactions to small things, like the cavity incident in June – the speed at which he ran seemed to indicate it really was pretty bad. Harry just hoped he could help.

When it was revealed by the nurse that Hani had a concussion, Harry was happy to find that he did have the proper potions on him, so when said miniature martial artist woke up he was given the potions before he could go interrupt the group who (from what Harry picked up while totally spacing out (there weren't any windows on that side of the curtain, but he had to be there to give Hani the proper dosage and he was trying not to panic since he was in a large room... but he still couldn't see out of the area and it was freaking him out – he ended up necking a calming draught only five minutes in to the wait)) were talking about how Hani was apparently an alien because he could eat an entire cake in one go. Harry left as soon as the others wandered off to watch them fight.

Everything was back to normal the next day though, so Harry decided to pretend it never happened.

Well, technically nothing was ever normal around the Host Club. He'd learned that pretty easily, considering every Host had their history (though he really only knew some of Hani and Mori's, a fair amount of Fujioka's (Ranka was pretty chatty, and he did have the flat directly above the father-daughter pair)), and didn't particularly care about it. Some things were obvious, anyway; for example, by looking at the twins it was apparent that they, like the Weasley Twins, were almost never told apart even by their own parents, but unlike the Weasleys they recoiled in on themselves completely instead of trying to branch outward while maintaining unity. Another obvious one was that Ootori had grown up knowing he wouldn't inherit, but still trying to do so despite his own claims of futility.

Harry could read people pretty well, depending on certain factors, and some of the Hosts were easier than others. He knew that their pasts would come back to haunt them at odd times just like his own seemed prone to doing.

Like Sirius popping by to visit that Friday for no apparent reason when he could have just as easily called his phone; it happened whether someone wanted it to or not. Sirius just seemed to want Harry's past to pop up more than anyone else's.

"Hiiiii Harry!" Sirius threw open the door to the study area with a loud shout, causing Harry to let go of The Flying Book of Flight, which he grabbed again quickly and stuffed into his bag before any of the rich kids in the next room noticed. "So, how's it going?"

Harry glared at his guardian with every ounce of annoyance he could muster. It was a lot, too. "It was going alright until you interrupted," he informed the older man before pulling a math text towards him. He'd taken to having a muggle book with him whenever he studied in case one of the Hosts (most likely Hani since he seemed to be the only one who ever went in the room other than Harry himself) decided to come in while he was studying so he could pretend to be reading something normal. "Is there a reason for your sudden visit?" He glanced through the door and saw that the club was still in session, though it seemed to be closing up for the day. Had the man no subtlety?

"Nope," Sirius grinned wolfishly before letting out his bark-like laugh. "I just wanted to see you. And I'm bored."

"And this couldn't have waited until I went home?" It had to be the _dumbest_ reason to pop by that he had heard. At least the other time he had the excuse of bringing Fred and George to kidnap him, but really. They lived together; they tended to see quite a bit of one another. And the man had dozens of ways to entertain himself.

"It could have. But I didn't want to wait."

"You didn't want to wait to _come see me_. Merlin's pants, Sirius! I was going to head home in half an hour!" He wondered why he was getting so worked up over this at all. It wasn't something _worth_ getting angry over anyway. And yet he felt his blood simmering under his skin and a distinct wish to hit _something_ without good reason. He turned away to pull a calming draught from his bag and took a sip. It was completely irrational! "Sorry Sirius, my emotions are a bit wonky right now."

"Only because you need to get out more," Sirius replied easily. "You're getting out more than you did, but compared to Hogwarts... Harry, this isn't exactly healthy, y'know. All you do is study, cook, and go to that magic-club of yours. And that cat-guy is _creepy_." The older man's shudder caught Harry attention from the corner of his eye.

"It doesn't matter if what I do is healthy or not. I have things I want to do with my life, and that takes training in both the normal world and ours; I have to study twice as much as most people because of that, even with the wit sharpeners. It would be easier if you didn't interrupt me all the time, too."

"Your logic doesn't affect me," Sirius waved the comment off. "Now come on, we're treating Ranka and Haruhi to dinner tonight, and I need entertainment for the next hour or so."

A loud crash sounded from the club room and Harry turned back toward the door where Sirius stood, now also turned into the club room. The clientele of the club had apparently left during the brief conversation between the two wizards, and the Hosts were picking up for the day. Except, whatever Suou had been picking up was no longer in tact (it looked like smashed china on a silver platter now, so it was probably a tea set). Jaw gaping for a split second, the blond suddenly puffed up and glomped the youngest of the Hosts. (3)

"Haruhiiiiii," he whined. "You shouldn't go around with strange men! I won't let them take my poor, innocent daughter from me!"

"He's right, Haruhi! You shouldn't hang out with weird guys! And Tono is the weirdest!" Hikaru and Kaoru dragged the girl from their "King's" grasp and Harry sighed. For most this would be odd, but after several months of seeing such antics from time to time, Harry was rather unaffected. Sirius, on the other hand, was staring as if the antics as if it were a particularly weird (which it was) and surprising event to happen at all. "Stick with us! We won't let him have you!"

Through all of this, Fujioka struggled to not drop the tray she had been carrying as the twins continued to haul her away from their King. For once, it wasn't a futile effort as she managed to place it on a table when she passed close enough; all the while Sirius seemed fascinated in the twisted ballet that was the Hitachiin-Suou-Fujioka love quadrangle.

"She's completely oblivious, isn't she?" the curious animagus asked.

"Very," Harry admitted. "I'm pretty sure Suou-senpai doesn't realize either, though I don't know about the twins; Kaoru is the more mature one if you talk to him for a bit, so he might know, but if he realizes Hikaru is in the same boat..." he paused then shrugged. "It's hardly our business, if at all. Weren't you kidnapping me to do unspeakable things?" He tilted his head to look at the older man who stood next to him in the doorway.

"You're pretty dense, too," Harry looked up, furrowing his brow, "just so you know."

With a long-suffering sigh, Harry rolled his eyes heavenward and started walking. If Sirius wanted to leave, then they would leave, and he would have to find a way to keep the older man entertained. If they had more time, they could pop by the property Sirius had bought for his home and go for a fly, but an hour wasn't much time to do so. He realized with a start that, even after he'd been thinking of flying over the summer break, he still hadn't gone for a whirl on his Firebolt in months. Maybe after he went to the Hospital on Saturday, he would.

Thoughts being literally in the clouds, Harry almost tripped when an imperious Suou appeared before him. He cart-wheeled his arms to keep from falling over, barely managing to keep his balance before Sirius tugged on his jacket to bring him into a full, upright position.

"I don't trust my daughter with you," Suou informed the pair in a manner that was strangely serious for such a stupid comment. Given who was saying it though, it was to be expected. Harry blinked. "I will not let her be compromised by men such as you." Harry caught on to the insinuation and snorted.

"We've gone over that point already," he informed the second year, "and her _real_ father is going to be there, so no worries about us dastardly Englishmen doing anything to 'your' daughter." He made extra care to add in the air quotes.

"Though I'm sure I could adjust the reservation if you felt you absolutely _had_ to chaperone," Sirius' tone was light, friendly, and made Harry's head whip around so fast that his neck popped. If this was going where he thought this was going... well, it wasn't all that bad. So long as he wasn't sitting next to the blond wherever they were going, that is. Knowing Sirius, it would be either a conveyor-belt sushi place (the man found it entertaining to pick the sushi plates and see how many of them he could stack before he got full) or a very high-end restaurant. Since he mentioned reservations, it was almost definitely the latter option.

Suou seemed as surprised as Harry and stared blankly at the only adult in the room (well, technically Mori was a legal adult as well, but he was still a student and therefore didn't count) for a moment before the realization of the invitation hit him. The twins (who still had Fujioka) beat him to the punch, though.

"What restaurant?" They asked simultaneously, dragging their classmate into the fray. Mori and Hani seemed to be making their way over as well.

"I don't remember the name, actually," Sirius laughed his usual bark-like laugh. "Ranka suggested the place; it's a five-star downtown, Italian cuisine I think. Should I tell them to tack on six to the table?" Somehow, Harry dreaded the experience less than he felt he ought to. Maybe it was because he liked Italian food, or that Sirius hadn't done anything too dumb yet.

Given that the restaurant was five-star, it really should have been a lot harder to get the extra seating for the reservation being only two hours away. However, it was Sirius who was making the reservation. The fact that _the_ Lord Black was living in the area had spread around like wildfire, and despite it not being Britain where a strong pureblood name pulled weight (and the restaurant being muggle), his name practically demanded top quality service.

It might have been because everyone knew (via various news sources and gossip rags) that the mysterious British Lord had dined with the Emperor in late March, which obviously meant he was important.

Either way, over the course of five minutes, Sirius had booked an extra six seats for the table he had reserved only that morning and informed the Hosts to dress appropriately (as if they would do anything less). The only Marauder to ever step foot in Asia (to Harry's knowledge) had apparently taken Ranka shopping that day for the appropriate attire for both him and his daughter.

"You aren't trying to pull a sugar-daddy type thing, right?' Harry clarified as he tied his tie with utmost precision. "It'd be a kind of weird effort anyway, but you _aren't_, right?" He glanced away from the mirror to the other end of the magically expanded bathroom to his godfather, who was meticulously using a shaving charm (Harry was rather jealous that he even had to use one; he still couldn't grow so much as a whisker) to get rid of his five o'clock shadow.

"Of course not," Sirius shook his head, leaning away from the second mirror before turning around and winking saucily so that Harry could see it in the reflection. "He likes me only for my good looks and charms. Money has nothing to do with it."

The Boy-Who-Lived wrinkled his nose and sighed after a moment. "Just make sure you warn me if you decide to bring him to the apartment. I don't want the expansion charms collapsing on me without warning just because you want a quick shag." He smirked at Sirius' scandalized look (he tended to not speak about things like that, but when the comment popped into his mind, there was no stopping it) and went into the main room trying to block out the mental images that his comment had spurred.

The warding of the apartment had been done carefully since it was in a muggle complex, though luckily Sirius was good with warding (Harry soon found that he was horrible, and it had almost nothing to do with the fact that he hardly knew anything about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes). The enlargement wards on each room had been carefully calibrated so that if a person of non-magical origin entered the flat – such as the landlady – the charms would automatically fail. If those failed, then so did most of the wards, but it would trigger notice-me-nots on everything that was magical in the flat. The place was still small, really only doubled in size, but Harry couldn't stand to be in smaller for long even if all the windows were wide open. As it was, he usually stuck to the kitchen area (where he had a window right over the sink) and his room (with the window directly above his bed).

Outside the complex, the wizards met the ladies (well, one lady and one man _dressed_ as a lady) they were taking to dinner for the evening. Harry was quite surprised to note how well Fujioka's father must know her measurements – surely almost as well as Ootori or the twins – as the blue gown she wore fit entirely right. He was also surprised at how well Ranka could dress as a woman; the dress hovered just above imaginary cleavage and, had Harry not already known, he would have been hard pressed to figure him as a man at all.

Inside the limo Sirius had called in, Harry sent a glance to Fujioka and smiled lightly. "He's absolutely mad, just so you know." And that was that.

Perhaps the rich were just extremely good at being punctual when they wished, or it may have just been coincidence, but just as the car pulled up to drop the four off, five more pulled in behind and dropped the Hosts off as well, all looking great per usual in their tuxes. Not that Harry was going to mention it. Besides, for it being the first time he had ever worn a tuxedo, Harry felt he looked rather smashing as well.

Once they had been shown to their table, Sirius took charge of placing everyone around the table. First he sat Ranka and his daughter together, then on Fujioka's side he placed Suou, Ootori, Kaoru, Hikaru, Hani, Mori, Harry, and finally Sirius himself sat between Harry and Ranka. The twins seemed put out to not be by their "toy" but made no protest.

What disturbed Harry most about the entire evening was that nothing disturbing happened. The Hosts didn't coo over their princess dressing up as a girl (though they did compliment her, and the twins took pictures with their phones), nor did Suou get in an argument about _who_ was the girl's father. It was entirely normal for being such a dressy affair. He'd been entirely too nervous, he decided, to have been darting his gaze about as if expecting one of the Hosts – who had all been groomed for this sort of thing – to goof it up.

After Sirius footed the bill (which Harry felt was a ridiculous amount pf yen for how much food they were served but kept his mouth shut) and everyone had called their cars back, they were all standing and Harry felt considerably more at ease. He really had been a fool to worry so much about them doing something stupid. And, even if they had, would it really have mattered? With a sigh, he realized that Sirius was at least part right about him needing to relax. He really would have to go for a fly that weekend.

"Thank you for your patronage, Lord Black," their waiter bowed as everyone stood from the table.

"And we all thank you for your wonderful service, sir," Sirius grinned, nodding his head. "Have fun with your tip."

"'Lord' Black?" Ranka asked when they left the building. "As in an _actual_ Lord?" His eyes were the size of dinner plates. Apparently he hadn't known.

"It's just a title; I don't actually do anything." Sirius didn't think much of his status, Harry knew. Well, he didn't think much of status at all, be it blood, social, whatever, but at least he recognized what _others_ thought of it.

"Harry-chan! Harry-chan!" Harry turned to look slightly behind him where Hani was walking (without his bunny for the evening, but he did have a bunny-face shaped bowtie). "What's it like to grow up with a lord as your godfather?"

Maybe it was because their was still a tinge of calming draught in his blood, or maybe it was because it was Haninozuka Mitsukuni asking rather than any of the other Hosts, but Harry didn't mind the question. He had expected questions of this sort for ages, actually, ever since the Hosts started attempting to socialize with him, and every scenario ended with him rather miffed. He wasn't though, so that was good.

"I don't really know," he shrugged easily. "My aunt and uncle raised me; as Suou-senpai would say, I grew up a 'commoner'."

It was surprisingly easy to say, and somehow he felt that the evening hadn't been ruined by what could have been taken as a callous question.

Little did he know how that one response would affect the Hosts who heard it.

**Author's Note: I don't know much about medical stuff at all, so sorry if there are any glaring errors, but I don't know any better.**

**The idea of Sirius/Ranka has been attacking my brain ever since I started this story. It'd just be a side pairing, but I'm still very skeptical as to how their characters would mesh to form an actual relationship. If nothing else, I'll have it as a temp pairing and make Sirius' official pairing be with Remus (yes, Remus will be in here. I love him too much for him not to be).**

**The Hosts really are trying now to get Harry to be social (Tamaki got over the thing about not being friends pretty quickly). For the most part they genuinely like him, and of course the pity... which is being added to now that they know that one bit of information about his past. Little do **_**they**_** know just how pitiable he really is. And they'll find out soon. (sigh) Poor Harry...**

**Canonically, they took Hani to the middle school infirmary... but I wanted Harry to worry over Hani. Totally platonic between them, I just see Hani as the first one he would fret over, and it was stated earlier he liked him best in the non-romantic sense. So there.**

(1) -sensei as an honorific is also used for doctors. I picked Kishimoto-sensei because I'm reading some Naruto fanfiction right now and had a brain fart regarding Japanese family names. (In case you didn't know, Kishimoto Masashi is the creator of Naruto.)

(2) Dialogue taken from chapter 29 of the manga.

(3) Haruhi's birthday is in February, therefore she is the youngest.


	10. Chapter 10

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 10

With the wind tickling through his hair and the ground coming up far too fast, Harry wasn't sure why he hadn't done this before. It had been months, since February or something, since he had been flying and he was now wondering very much why he hadn't thought before Friday to use Sirius' property for it. His own was out of the question since it was too close to muggles (particularly Tokyo), but this...

With a large grin, he pulled up from his dive only inches from the ground. It was perfection, flying through the air without a stupid machine. It was interesting to fly in an airplane, sure, since it went higher than he could on his broom (oxygen became a bit of an issue after a certain height) but it wasn't as exciting, as death-defying, and helicopters were just stupid and loud. He wondered very seriously how he could have gone _months_ without flying and not blown up every person he'd seen in that time.

Obviously, the young wizard had more self-control than he thought.

Just as he was pulling up, his phone vibrated in his pant leg, so he pulled to a slow stop instead, putting the silenced phone to his ear.

"Hello," he said cheerily. How could he not? He was twenty feet off the ground with a grove of blackberry bushes below that would be very uncomfortable to land on. Harry was having the time of his life... well, the past few months anyway. The First Task had been a lot more exhilarating, but unless he could get someone to release a dragon from the reserve on Kyushyu for him, there would be no reenactment.

"Hey Harry," Sirius' voice crackled across the line, slightly garbled by the ambient magic. "I'm going out. Haruhi was abducted by some girls from a school called St. Lobelia's for reasons unknown. The doors are locked and my phone should be on unless I have to turn it off."

Harry was silent for a moment before replying. "Right, have fun I suppose. Say hello to everyone for me."

"Will do. Enjoy your flight!"

The line died and Harry slipped his phone back into his pocket and decided to land. It was noon; he could drop by town for some lunch and then fly some more later. That sounded good... maybe he should make flying a regular part of his schedule. In all honesty, he felt a million times better than he had the day before, not at all testy and certainly not stiff. There was a sharp ache in his shoulders and midriff from flying for – how long had it been? Three hours? – as long as he had after not so much as mounting the broom for months, so he technically wasn't in top condition, but it was a good ache.

With his prized Firebolt tucked safely away in the broom shed (it was the first thing Sirius had built on his new property – the house itself was still maybe a month or two from completion – and stood relatively near the construction site) Harry apparated to an alley that had been spelled for just that purpose in the middle of town. He tried to remember if there were any small places he could go for a small lunch, but couldn't think of any in particular and so decided to browse about and see what caught his eye.

After he had walked about two blocks along the reasonably crowded sidewalks, Harry noticed something – or, rather, some_one_ – he rather would not have seen in the area. As a matter of fact, until he saw the man in question, he'd been more than fairly certain that he was locked up tight in Azkaban on charges of being a Death Eater and multiple uses of the Unforgivables. He shouldn't have ever seen the outside world again.

But there he was. Standing at an intimidating six-foot-five with white-blond hair tied back in the usual fashion of a Pureblood Lord, Lucius Malfoy was stalking the other side of the street, steel grey eyes flitting about quickly. He even had his cane with him.

Harry bowed his head slightly and took off his glasses, simultaneously robbing himself of his vision and disguising himself, if only slightly. Since it was still summer (and thus hot out) even he couldn't stand to wear long sleeves for once and had his arms bared, and among the many tourists he didn't look too out of place even with the scars. Given his arms were so pale, only the purple one from the basilisk three years ago stood out, the others – one from Peter taking his blood more than a year before, a few from himself while he was under Cruciatus almost a year ago, and one from an unfortunate encounter with Piers Polkiss and a rock when he was eight – were merely white marks on nearly-as-pale arms.

Malfoy didn't seem to have noticed him, which was good (being below average height had some advantages, he supposed) and Harry ducked into a news stand. It was a good, inconspicuous hiding place and he would pick up a paper. There was supposed to be something in the Business section about the introduction of Potter Productions (his music production company started in the twenties by his grandfather) to Japan.

As it was Harry Potter who was going into the stand, however, he got side tracked by something not business oriented because, quite frankly, it was loads more interesting. A gossip rag with his godfather on the cover. Well, in all fairness, it was the entire Host Club, Sirius, Ranka, and Harry on the cover, but the article advertised ("Lord Black makes public appearance at popular restaurant: Who are these attractive people he has surrounded himself with and is there going to be a Lady Black in the near future? See inside for more!") was mostly about Sirius.

It was a good picture, actually, taken at an angle and from slightly upwards of being level. It showed Sirius with Ranka on his arm at the front of the group as they exited the restaurant from the night before, with Ranka on Sirius' arm and chatting amiably. It was obviously just after he had asked about the "Lord" bit, as Harry's head was turned back away from the camera so only the back of his head showed in the picture while talking to Hani. Fujioka was only a step or two behind her father and seemed to be staring off into space, and the Hosts (excluding Hani because his face was full of shock as he clung onto Mori's hand) looking every bit their part as attractive, rich heirs that they were.

Paying for the magazine and a newspaper – he did want to read the article on his company to see what would be said and if he would have to make a statement or if his stand-in had done so already – Harry continued his walk, happy to note that Malfoy was nowhere in sight. He would have to call Sirius and warn him about the unwanted presence.

Ten minutes later Harry was stepping out of a small cafe with a sandwich and pastry in a bag, clutching some sort of iced-vanilla drink in his hand. As it was midday, the cafe was (unfortunately) too crowded for him to eat there, and apparating with food wasn't a good idea because (for some reason) it tended to make muggle-made food explode. No one had any idea why, but Harry expected it was the whole "being stuffed in a rubber tube" thing. He could be wrong though.

Maybe, instead of pondering the mysteries of exploding food, Harry should have been watching where he was going. Not ten steps out from the cafe, he bumped into someone who was running the opposite direction, and they both fell. His food was squished and the weird icy drink spilled on the sidewalk, too.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized quickly, pulling himself up off the ground. The other member of the encounter had tripped over him, but had stood up almost immediately. "I wasn't looking where I was going. You aren't hurt, are you?" Then he looked at the person and found it to be someone he recognized and had only met that week; Mori's little brother. "Morinozuka-san, I'm really sorry."

Satoshi, however, seemed just as apologetic. "No need, I shouldn't have been running around. My brother wouldn't have –" he cut off and looked at Harry. "Hey, you're one of Taka-nii-san's friends, aren't you? I thought everyone went to go visit that one first year, Haruhi-san."

Harry stared a moment before shaking it off. This seemed oddly like a deja vu moment, but he had no clue why. "I'm not sure if we're friends or not, but I owe your brother my life, so there's some sort of relationship," he shrugged. Satoshi got all starry eyed.

"My brother is the best! He seriously saved your life?" It was like looking at a very loyal dog or something... or perhaps this was like what Ginny went through when people found out that he had saved her life. The situations were different though. "Taka is the best in our entire family, and this only proves it! Most don't even have the opportunity to save a person's life, and my bro totally succeeded! So what did he do? Save you from yakuza?"

"Er... no, nothing all that exciting. Hani-senpai convinced me to play a game with the Host Club. I took off my shoes so no one would hear me running, but I don't know my way around that part of the building very well; I ended up sliding across the floor to one of the big stair cases. Mori-senpai grabbed me before I got that far though. It was very nice of him. By the way, I'm Potter Harry of 1-A at the High School section." He held his hand out to shake and Satoshi – seemingly not at all put out that the rescue hadn't been so grandiose as imagined – shook it heartily.

"Morinozuka Satoshi, but we kind of already met on Monday. Have you had lunch yet?" Harry blinked. It was such a random question, but glancing at his squished food and spilled drink (it had been so tasty too...) he shook his head. "Great! Come with me."

"But –"

"Come on!" And with that the youngest Morinozuka (that Harry had met anyway) grabbed him by the upper arm and started dragging him through the lunch-rush crowd to Merlin only knew where. For such a wiry kid, he was pretty strong too, so Harry had no hope what-so-ever of escaping.

"Morinozuka-san," Harry sighed when they stopped at a crosswalk. "Where are you dragging me off to?"

"Call me Satoshi," he waved off the formality with ease. It was something not even the Hosts had done, and some of them seemed to fancy themselves his friends. "And I'm taking you to lunch! Let's go."

And the dragging continued.

Harry was actually kind of curious as to what Satoshi was doing there, and walking. Everyone at the school was driven pretty much everywhere by chauffeurs in fancy cars, but here he was walking about in casual (though obviously designer) clothes like any normal person.

He was also worrying very much where the middle school student had in mind for lunch; after seeing him drink coffee with Tabasco sauce in it and say it was good... well, Harry didn't have a lot of faith in the younger boy's taste buds.

"We're here, Harry-senpai," Satoshi grinned at Harry as if he _hadn't_ just dragged him fifteen blocks by the arm while running at full tilt. Luckily, Harry was used to running and managed to keep up easily just as he had when everyone was worried about Hani on Tuesday. Still, he felt like his arm had been dragged out of its socket.

"Here" turned out to be a ramen shop. In fact, Harry was fairly certain it was the same place he had brought the twins, and he knew it to be a place that Sirius favored on their meals out. An odd choice, but not a bad one.

"That's nice, Satoshi-san," he eyed the boy suspiciously. "Was this where you were running earlier?"

"Yup! They have the best ramen in town, but my mom doesn't like it when I go to places like this," he rolled his eyes in a joking manner. "Dad and Taka don't mind though, and he or Chika usually comes with me. She's just a bit stuck up about this stuff. Still, the driver won't drop me off here anymore, so I had to make him think I was meeting Minoru – he's a boy in my class – a whole twenty blocks from here! If it was too close mom would have noticed. Usually Taka can get her to let me come here, but since he's off with Mitsukuni and the rest of their club..."

It went on and on. Harry was surprised that the kid wasn't choking! Yet he managed to go on and on until they placed their orders ("We'll have miso ramen! Is that okay with you Harry-senpai?") when he finally paused for more than a microsecond for breath.

"So, what are you like?" Satoshi asked as their waitress walked away. Harry blinked at the sudden question; he'd long since mastered the art of half listening (Hermione helped with that), so he knew what was being said, but the subject change was pretty abrupt. "I mean, you didn't really say much when we met at school, and I guess I was a little busy trying to keep Chika in line (he's so disrespectful!) and talking to Takashi-nii to really pay much attention. Plus you've hardly said anything since we met!" Suddenly he paused and got into a dramatic thinking pose. "Though I suppose I've been talking a lot, huh?"

"Just a bit," Harry shrugged, uncertain of how to deal with the boy. He wasn't really used to dominating a conversation and he was basically being asked to at the very least _attempt_ to do so. "What do you want to know?"

"I don't know. Where are you from? How did you meet the Hosts? What's your favorite color? What is your family like?" For not knowing, he had a fair number of questions.

"Er... I'm from England, Surrey in particular. At least, that's where I lived; I think I was born in a town called Godric's Hollow in Wales, but I've never actually been that I can remember. As to the Hosts... I borrow a side room to their club room for studying since my place isn't the best if I want to get anything productive done. I don't have any favorite color, but I guess I like black and green."

"And your family?" He'd been hoping that Satoshi wouldn't press that one, but he couldn't really get out of it now.

"I've heard my father was a big prankster in school; the coolest guy on campus and he apparently had a lot of girls who liked him, but he only had eyes for my mum. She was kind, a real brainiac who stood up for anyone, no matter who they were or how they treated her, if they were in the right then she would help them. They were worst enemies in school and completely in love when they married. I also have an aunt who hasn't got a philanthropic bone in her body and only has eyes for her husband and son. She and my uncle were completely obsessed with being normal, and my cousin is a spoiled brat and a bully. Sirius is family too, I suppose, same sort of character as my dad but he still acts like he's twenty sometimes."

Satoshi was silent for a moment before he looked Harry directly in the eye, face more serious than he had seen it. "What do you mean 'was'?"

"My parents died when I was a baby," the response was flat, emotionless. What could he put behind it really? Sometimes he had hated them for dying, for leaving him with the Dursleys, and since he'd never known them he couldn't really be too sad, couldn't mourn them.

"Oh." Just that flat "oh" that could imply many things. It could mean "I said something stupid" or "that's boring" but it was more likely the former. "So... um... how are you liking Japan?"

"It's alright, interesting weather patterns, and most of the time I don't feel as short as I am compared to most people," Harry sent a smirk across the table as their drinks arrived. "Quid pro quo?" At Satoshi's questioning glance, he elaborated. "You ask a question and I can too, okay?"

"Sure."

An hour passed in this manner, trading information, most of it silly thing like favorite animals or something weird about themselves (Harry responded with owls and said he'd gotten a haircut every week as a child because his hair was always shaggy and grew back quickly even when he'd had it cut almost bald; Satoshi liked bears and seemed to think that going to a cinema once when he was a kid without buying out the entire theater was odd). In the process, Harry learned more about what, exactly, was up with Mori and Hani. Apparently the Morinozuka family had served the Haninozuka for generations until just two past, but they still usually helped the one nearest their age. Mori and Hani were apparently raised together and the older of the two had always done whatever he could for the younger.

It made Harry wonder what would happen when they went off to University since they would undoubtedly be going to specialty schools for their interests. He was fairly certain there weren't any high end mathematics schools with an equal history department either.

That night, when Sirius got home before heading to the okama bar (Harry decided that it was his not-so-subtle way to have a date with Ranka, even if the cross-dresser was on duty) he told the older man about seeing Malfoy in town and to keep an eye out.

At the Morinozuka household, Satoshi was eating dinner with his family and remembered his encounter. "Taka-nii-san! You are totally awesome! I heard from Harry-senpai today that you saved his life!" Meanwhile, Mori wondered why his brother had seen the reclusive first year that day at all and decided to ask him later. He wanted to eat his sanma (1) uninterrupted.

* * *

"... A 'fright-fest'? That's pretty stupid," Harry sighed as the rest of his class whooped at the idea. It was a boring proposition, and what if someone shoved him in a closet or something? Well, he didn't much care, though Nekozawa would undoubtedly want to do something about the event. He didn't care to scare or be scared... though he supposed he could bring in some snakes or something; they weren't props so much as pets after all, and loads of people were afraid of snakes, weren't they?

There was some commotion outside the room (he noticed that the twins and Fujioka had vanished, as had the class president, Soga Kazukiyo) but ignored it, simply nodding his assent when a pair of girls (both fans of Fujioka's, it seemed, who were rather put out that she – they thought he – was grouped with the Hitachiin twins and Soga) asked him to join their team. They were part of Team A.

Unfortunately, his teammates were total airheads despite being reasonably smart and left their tactics up to him. Add to that the fact that the Black Magic Club wanted his help in setting things up for their big scare on the entire class and he was swamped the entire week. He simply showed up with a box of snakes – none of them poisonous of course, but it would be bard to tell in the dark – and told the girls that he was ready for their turn to scare since they couldn't think of anything else. He doubted they would have the chance anyway since Nekozawa was planning their "prank" to be during the first round anyway. Still, better safe than sorry.

Stalking the school in the dark with a box of snakes and two easily scared girls who kept jumping at every noise (even the tiny hisses from his snakes, who mostly wanted to girls to "just _shut up_") seemed to scare them silly. After passing several rather boring scare-stations that had the girls trailing behind him "for protection," Harry was really wondering why he had even bothered to come. Aside from that attendance actually counted for a grade for some inane reason.

As they mounted the stairs to the second floor, a thudding noise came from the next staircase up and screaming erupted from the landing. Harry furrowed his brow but kept going even as he saw whoever it was running scared. Nekozawa had probably started up and – if he was hearing the voices correctly – it was the Host team (plus Aiya) who were running down the corridors screaming for their lives.

"Harry-kun, what do you think that was?" one of the girls – class vice-president Kurakano – asked as they peeked around the banister. There wasn't anything there, so Harry shrugged, trying not to jostle his box of snakes.

"The group that was here probably scared themselves or went off to hide; they were definitely looking out for us a little bit ago..." he stopped and looked down at the two tags that lay abandoned on the floor before he picked them both up. "That makes five for us. Let's keep going."

Two halls down, Harry heard someone pounding on one of the doors and was kind of surprised. They had agreed not to stuff anyone in any rooms, since claustrophobia was pretty serious (Harry wouldn't wish it on anyone else), but someone was locked in a room anyway. The pounding stopped when they were still ten doors down, but it didn't sound like anyone was having a panic attack or something, so Harry decided to count his blessings as they walked to the door.

"It's locked," the other girl – Houshakuji Renge – sighed. "I hope Haruhi-kun isn't in there. But he's so brave, I'm sure he'd be fine even if he was! I can definitely work something like this into my Host Club doujinshi." She was getting starry eyed and started commiserating with Kurakano while Harry rolled his eyes and discretely loosed his wand into his hand.

"Hold on a second, you'll be free in no time," he assured whoever was on the other side before tapping the lock quickly and hiding his wand up his sleeve once more. The door opened to two boys sitting in front of it, apparently bored as they were talking. Soga and one of the Hitachiin brothers. "Aa, Kaoru and the class president! Glad to see you're –"

"KAORU!" That was all the warning Harry had before he was shoved into the door frame, causing him to drop his box of snakes and releasing them. The girls were running away, screaming before he even registered what happened beyond that his shoulder hurt and he had a headache.

When Harry sat up again, he noted that the twins and Soga were all standing on a table while the snakes roamed the area. He sighed and started gathering them up again, hissing platitudes under his breath with promises to skin the offending twin alive himself and to give them all nice, fat mice when the night was over.

Just as the last snake was gathered, Fujioka entered the room and Hikaru started apologizing for leaving her behind. Harry slowly started moving away so he could find his teammates and to get out of the room because, even though there were windows, they were covered and he wanted to see the sky very much. The arranged meeting place to return to if they got separated was their classroom anyway, which was only the next floor down.

* * *

The day after the "big scare" (it was stupid, but the projection charm he gave them worked well and scared the entire class), Harry was pretty much known as the bravest of all 1-A since he was the only one who hadn't gone insane when it happened. They even posted a picture of him being bored with the whole thing on the front page of the paper with the photos of everyone else screaming. He just brushed everyone off and went to his study area in the Host room.

He regretted that.

When Suou stopped moping about "his daughter doing something dangerous" it was apparently decided that the club would be closed for the day and that they would all just laze about for a few hours. It was only a stroke of luck that had Harry reading something mundane when Hani and Mori entered his study area suddenly. Being thrown over the taller boy's shoulder wasn't exactly something he expected either.

"Gah! Mori-senpai, put me down!" Harry tried to move as he was carried out of his study room to the main area of the club, but he couldn't really do anything and had to sit tight until he was set down in front of a couch. Hani sat before Harry could say anything and pulled him down next to him. Mori sat on Harry's other side, most likely to keep him from escaping. "Er... hello."

"Glad you could make it," Ootori said kindly – which was odd for him – as his glasses didn't seem to be reflecting the light from Harry's angle for once. Harry twitched.

"Didn't have any choice in the matter, though from you, Ootori-senpai, I would have expected an invitation before force was used, if only for diplomacy's sake," he put up an appropriate scowl, but his heart wasn't really in it. He was more concerned with going flying tomorrow.

"We tried! You didn't answer when we knocked," Suou grumped as he sat in a lounging position in _his_ chair (or Harry assumed it was his since he usually used it to welcome guests at the start of the day; they must have moved it for the day). Harry sent him a nonplussed look.

"They got my attention by entering the room," he glanced to the side at Hani. "Couldn't _you_ have tried asking?" Hani just smiled and tucked into a piece of cake as if they hadn't hauled him off for no apparent reason. Harry sighed. "Of course not. Do I at least get to know _why_?"

Ootori was smiling again, and it wasn't the "let's do business" or "I can be nice when I want to" smile, but one that spoke of great evil... well, okay, that was overdoing it, but it wasn't a pleasant smile. "We're going to interrogate you."

Harry stared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes and leaning back into the couch and turning his gaze to Mori. "You know, your brother was a lot nicer about this. He phrased it as a 'get to know' you type of thing," Harry said. "Interrogation sounds like you'll be torturing the information that you want out of me... though I will say that at least you're finally being direct instead of going behind my back and asking Sirius."

Hikaru started choking on the biscuit he'd been eating at that last statement and Kaoru had to thwack him on the back to keep him from coughing up a lung in his effort to get rid of the chunk. "H-how did you know about that?"

"He's my godfather, you know," snorted Harry. "He doesn't go about giving my information to people I may or may not want in the loop without telling me about it. That would be an invasion of my privacy, don't you think?"

The questioning went on from there, and Harry repeated mostly what he'd initially told Satoshi the day before (Suou complained when he found out that Harry called the middle school student by his given name but not him since Suou had known him longer, to which Harry replied that he had never asked – Suou then did ask and Harry complied), though "quid pro quo" didn't go over as well since they generally believed he knew more about them than they him... which wasn't inaccurate, just annoying.

"Where are your scars from?" Harry jumped and looked to his left where the gentle giant known as Morinozuka Takashi sat, not so silent for once. He turned in his seat and looked the young wizard straight in the eye. Harry tensed, turning his head away, and didn't reply. "Satoshi said you had scars on your arms."

Damn. There went the "pleading the fifth" option.

"One is from a year ago – I was cut by a knife – another is a bit wound, the rest are from various accidents," only two accidents really, and they were only accidents on his end. They all were. And no way in hell was he actually going to tell him the truth about those. "If that's all? I want to get a head start on things before the weekend. My schedule is packed, I'm afraid, and I don't want to run out of time for homework." Not that he had homework, but since he did have a couple of classes without Haruhi (she made the same request as Su-_Tamaki_ to be addressed by her given name) and the twins, so they couldn't know he was lying.

"No, I think we can let you alone for a while now," replied Kyouya (he hadn't made a request to stop the formalities, but to only call him by his surname and the rest by their given – excepting Mori and Hani, but _everyone_ called them Mori and Hani – seemed sort of weird). Harry nodded and stood, leaving the room for his bag and heading home.

Kyouya pulled his laptop from his bag and booted it up. "That clears with what I found," he turned the monitor to the others, and several articles could be read.

_Lord and Lady Potter murdered by British terrorist organization 'The Death Eaters': one year old son missing, assumed kidnapped or dead._

_Dursley family arrested for abusing nephew Harry Potter, confirmed heir to the Potter Lordship and Potter Company._

_Harry Potter: vanished again! Suspected to have been kidnapped by godfather, Lord Sirius Black, wanted murderer._

_Lord Black cleared of all charges by Ireland: awarded custody over godson, Harry Potter, Heir to the Potter Lordship._

"Something very strange is going on with Potter-kun," he closed the computer and stood. "I don't care whether or not we find out; I just don't want to have to deal with the fall out when everything unravels."

**Author's Note: He's going to call most of them by their given name now (discounting Hani and Mori because EVERYONE calls them Hani and Mori). Wanted to get all of this stuff out of the way...**

**Oh noes! Lucy is in Japan; whatever for? And why isn't he in Azkaban? (Insert evil laughter here because you obviously can't hear me)**

**Decided I'm definitely doing Sirius/Ranka as a pairing, but I'm still not sure how long-term it'll be. It depends on how well their characters mesh. Still not saying what the main pairing is... but loads of people have figured it out, it isn't hard to do so. I'm not exactly being secretive. Now I just have to decide who gets Haruhi (I'm kind of leaning towards Kasanoda on that one, just because it's him... or I could follow what canon seems to be doing and toss her over to Tama-chan, but I'm not a Tamaki fan at all). Decisions, decisions!**

**Notes on previous chapter: I've been asked twice, so I'll elaborate. Harry is NOT Lord Potter because firstly, he is not of age yet. Second, he wasn't raised on a Potter property or by Potter blood or anyone who could teach him about his role in society, so magic doesn't recognize him without the aid of the wizengamot... which means he would have to go to Britain and would have one hell of a time leaving. Sirius is Lord Black because he fits the criteria that DOESN'T require wizengamot intervention.**

(1) In "Mori's Secret" Mori was thinking about how he hoped dinner would be sanma fish; just thought I'd toss that in.


	11. Chapter 11

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 11

September the first dawned bright and happy. Harry Potter woke up moping and not feeling as happy-go-lucky as he ought to after having been flying only a few days before. In fact, his tutor (torture) session with the doctors at the nearest Ootori hospital should have cheered him up as well, and that had only been on Sunday. But when he shoved himself out of bed and glanced out the window, he was not a happy kid in any sense of the word.

At school, everyone who knew anything of him wondered at his dark attire, since Harry always wore the proper blue suit jacket and purple-and-black striped tie, but today his uniform was all black except for the usual white uniform shirt that he wore with the usual precision. He was even wearing his Black Magic Club cloak that he'd only ever worn for rituals (he found the idea stupid, but Nekozawa insisted). During breaks, he could be found in the garden with the hood down, staring into the sky in a sad way that made the girls in his year wonder if something bad had happened and want to comfort him. It made the boys wonder if he was barmy.

During lunch, Hikaru (being the insensitive boy he was, Harry could tell it was him) asked what was wrong and why he looked so "emo" (Harry didn't even know what that meant, but he assumed it had to do with his moodiness). Harry glared at him – mostly because this was the first time Hikaru had spoken to him in weeks and less due to the rudeness of the query – and told him to look up this day the year before in the news if he _really_ wanted to know, and couldn't he see that Harry was brooding?

By the end of lunch, everyone in the school knew about the terrorist attack on King's Cross Station, though none of them knew why Harry cared so much. Hikaru asked again.

"Because, you insensitive twit, some of my friends were at the station when it happened!" He snapped in the middle of their math lesson. The offending twin shrank into his seat and Harry got a confused look from the teacher while the class erupted into whispers. No one spoke to him for the rest of the day for fear that he would lash out at them as well; many suspected he'd gone easy on the first offender since he was a Hitachiin and at least associated with the seemingly anti-social first year.

When he came to school looking perfectly normal in the proper uniform and a polite smile on his face when someone greeted him, news began circulating that Harry might be bipolar. He wasn't entirely sure if that would be an inaccurate estimate or not, but he decided to just ignore everyone in favor of paying attention. Yes, it had been a disaster, but he knew (or hoped) that those who had died would want others to live, excepting perhaps Snape, since he was a vindictive bastard. He couldn't imagine Hermione or Cho Chang wanting everyone to die just because they had (Hermione might be jealous that he could pick up a book, but Cho might actually have been happy that she could see Cedric again).

The sight of the yakuza-boy who Hedwig liked (his name was Kasanoda, Harry was pretty sure, but it had been months, so he wasn't entirely sure) getting a make-over from the Hitachiin twins was the day's strange-sight when he exited his study room to snag a cup of coffee. He'd been ignoring the ruckus until then, but seeing the club room devoid of customers and with the scary boy from 1-D being fussed about by Hikaru and Kaoru, it was pretty obvious that he probably should have removed himself from the cave of despair earlier.

"What are you guys doing?" he groaned, massaging his temples. So much for coffee! The whirl of twins stopped and Harry saw they were half done with giving the other first year _dread locks_ of all things.

"Bossanova is getting a make over!" Tamaki said, appearing from literally nowhere to explain. "He's tired of being looked at with fear from his peers and family and so came to us for aid, in hopes that his evil looks and scary personality could be curbed by our –"

"Dreadlocks won't make him look any less scary; they'll make him look like he hasn't washed his hair in a week," Harry deadpanned. There was a kid in the room, he noticed, but brushed the thought off. "Kasanoda-san, please excuse them. They're malicious people, Hikaru-san especially. I bet he's the one who decided on what to do with your hair? Not that you could tell... What are you planning, anyway?"

"Well, we're going to give his clothes a more 'open' appearance, then a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes 'cause his glares are just plain creepy, and Tamaki is tossing in Kuma-chan as his character piece," one of the twins (probably Kaoru) listed off on his fingers. "Oh, and we're sending Shiro-kun along as an adorable accessory so he'll seem approachable, patient, calm, and nice!" The twins were both grinning full Cheshire Cat grins and leaning on one another over Kasanoda's head as if they were total geniuses.

"You're kidding, right? Kyouya-senpai, please tell me they're kidding?" He glanced over at the table where the Shadow King sat typing away at his laptop, but he only raised an eyebrow. Harry grimaced. "If you send him with the kid to his house, he'll look like a kidnapper or something, and I highly doubt sloppy clothes will help his image or whatever it is you're up to. Against my better judgment, I won't try and stop you but... Kasanoda-san, don't believe a word they say and if you don't want to do something, I suggest you don't. I hear that instincts are a very wise thing to follow. I'm going to get some coffee now; if you lot need me I'll be in the kitchen."

And with that he walked off, wondering if he could mix a headache cure with caffeine and not end up in a coma for a week. He needed the quick pick-me-up, but a Perk-Me-Up with a headache cure was a bad idea, and he didn't want to become dependent.

Opening the door to the small kitchen of the Host room (he had long since stopped wondering why the school built a kitchen into a music room and simply accepted it), Harry proceeded to make coffee, though not the instant stuff that some of the Hosts favored, instead grinding the coffee that he had brought in earlier that week; Sirius had turned him on to the bitter brew in May, and he found it helped his concentration. Kyouya had been accommodating as usual in letting him use their facilities.

Hani and Mori were in the kitchen already, and Harry was only a little surprised that Hani hadn't said anything to him yet. He usually greeted Harry quite cheerily at every opportunity, offered him cakes, etc, but the smallest Host hadn't said anything since they'd passed in the halls after the morning break. Actually, all of the Hosts seemed to be treating him... _differently_ since the "interrogation." It was only natural that they would, since until dinner the week before that they had all probably thought he was raised just like they were, even if his parents were dead, but then they found out he was raised by "normal" people...

His hands paused for half a second as he was scooping the now-ground coffee into the machine. For the most part, they hadn't done anything differently about him until after he answered their questions. Had he said anything damning? Harry pounded his brains, thinking. He'd told them the personalities of the Dursleys, but hadn't mentioned his neglect and abuse (he still hardly considered it as such; a few thwacks here and there were unimportant, and bullying between peers wasn't abuse either. It wasn't like they _beat_ him or anything), and he'd hardly revealed anything more than what Satoshi had apparently told his older brother about – he merely added in that his school held things like zoology and astronomy in higher regard than the standard classes which wasn't at all damning – and he hardly considered telling them where the scars on his arms came from, especially in only half-truths – as something that would cause such an about-face.

But they did about-face, and very obviously at that. Well, except maybe Mori, but like every other time the thought came up, Harry just couldn't tell because he had no clue as to what was going on in the mind of Ouran's tallest student. The twins stopped trying to rope him into things, Tamaki seemed somehow nicer, Haruhi kept sending him little smiles of the comforting variety, and Kyouya... well, he was still himself, but a bit more distant. Harry wouldn't deign to call himself friends with them – he wasn't dumb enough to forget how dangerous that could be on their end – but he was rather confused when they all suddenly distanced themselves without preamble. One week they're pulling him out of his shell, the next they seem to be encouraging that he never leave it.

Leaving his aggravated sigh to be only mental for the moment, Harry poured himself a cup of coffee, asked if Hani and Mori wanted any (Hani looked up with a complete "deer in the headlights" look and said no rather quickly while Mori merely shook his head and went back to... well, whatever it was he was doing) and leaned against the counter as he sipped his caffeinated concoction.

As soon as he decided it wouldn't be _so_ bad to let them in, even if it was just a little, it was like everyone wanted to prove him wrong. He didn't want friends, didn't need them, couldn't have them anyway, so he wasn't hard pressed to get over it, but it did kind of hurt. Still, his house would be done sometime before the end of the month, and then all he had to do was furnish it and he could move in, be alone, and never have to deal with social situations outside of work and school. Not even Sirius knew where his manor would be, or even that he was having his own built outside of the house Sirius had commissioned. There would be solitude, and everyone else would be safe; a win-win situation.

After another few minutes of brooding (and another cup of coffee), Harry left the kitchen, eyeing the conspiring seniors warily. He'd caught Hani sending curious looks in his direction and whispering inaudibly, and Mori seemed to speak a few times though the words were caught in the deep rumble of his voice. It was obvious they were talking about him, to an extent, but what about him, Harry couldn't know.

It was all just another case to add to reasons why he shouldn't give in to social temptations. Given that he was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, etc, it would all just come crashing down around him anyway; adding fuel to the fire just made the flames go higher in the end.

* * *

After a week of the Hosts coming up with half-hearted ways to make Kasanoda likable, Harry had gotten annoyed. Not that it had anything to do with them attacking Kasanoda at all, he was just aggravated with the mood-swings of the group as a whole. If any of them said anything to him, they suddenly looked like they thought they'd done the worst thing ever (except Kyouya, since he was Kyouya, and Mori because he didn't really say anything).

Regardless of everyone's weird attitudes, he went about his routine, pretending not to notice anything weird(er) going on. When Mori showed up to school with his fingers bandaged, Harry did his usual and took care of the wounds with a disinfectant and sealant potion from his bag while people who were worried about what happened to the older boy were gathered and worrying as worried people tend to do. Later, he heard that someone had been throwing things at Mori during the morning break.

Then, later that same day, Harry had decided he would take his lunch outside since it was a nice day and he was getting antsy after spending all day indoors. He'd sat down on one of the benches and relaxed for a bit, eating the box lunch more as an after thought than anything else. Until something happened, he hadn't even noticed that anyone was nearby.

He had shifted his position on the bench so that he could shade his eyes with one of the thin limbs of the tree above him when it hit him. Literally. Something smashed into the back of his head and shattered, sending him sprawling on the ground. He immediately noticed his glasses breaking, the glass crunched irreparably (even magic couldn't collect all the dust-like shards) and bemoaned the fact since he had just gotten them that weekend, meaning it would be another week before he could get another pair. Next, he realized that his nose hurt very much and was squished up against his face, also broken.

Add to that the fact that his head hurt all over, he'd grazed his hands on the ground, and he could feel something warm, wet, and faintly sticky coating the back of his head. Also, for the second time in as many weeks, his lunch had been spilled over the ground and a good portion of his soda had been spilled on his uniform in the fall.

Overall, not fun. And he didn't keep potions to deal with such damage, though a general headache cure wouldn't go amiss.

Using his arms to lift himself up – his palms stung as he pressed up from the ground do to the abrasions from trying to catch himself – Harry managed to get his face off the ground, trying his hardest not to wince. If he did wince, it would upset his nose, which was already in great pain, and he didn't need to make it any worse. He was woozy as he managed to get into a sitting position, but refused to fall over. He had to keep rational thought prevalent, get his mind off of the pain until he could get his bag.

The click of shoes on the walk alerted Harry to someone's presence, three sets of feet rushing his way. He twitched slightly, eyeing the thing that had hit him; a roof tile. It was shattered on the ground around where his head had been, and he knew there was probably a few pieces stuck in the back of his head that he could feel. A few drops of blood were on the shards of glass from his glasses and his nose was keeping up a steady drip down his chin and staining his shirt most likely. His vision may not have been the best, but Harry could tell pretty well what had happened.

And for once, the tactic wasn't screaming Death Eater, or magic in general. If they had found him and caught him unaware, he would be at least stunned, if not dead; no self-respecting Death Eater would have thrown something at him. Had he made any muggle enemies? Aside from the Dursleys – the older two being in jail and Dudley living with a "suitable" family and therefore had no idea where he even _was_ – he couldn't think of anyone who would use muggle methods to off him...

Unless they weren't aiming for him. He had been moving when he'd been hit, and it was a sudden leaning to the left. It had hit immediately after, so they may have been aiming past him and Harry just got unlucky... but then who would have someone stupid enough to throw roof tiles at them for enemies at _Ouran_ of all places?

A hand reached under his chin suddenly and tilted his face up, and Harry realized that the people owning the footsteps had arrived. Mori was kneeling in front of him, just shy of where the broken glass and tile lay on the ground, staring him straight in the eye. It was mildly disconcerting, but Harry remained still and silent, boring his gaze into sharp gray eyes just as intensely.

"No concussion," Mori stated quietly after a moment, releasing Harry's chin. So that was what he had been doing! Well, Harry was glad for it; while he did stock potions to help with concussions, they weren't the safest potions to take. Not that they were unsafe, but Harry didn't have the fat cells necessary to take care of him incase he measured incorrectly. He may not have his ribs overtly visible anymore, and he may not be a walking wraith, but he was still underweight.

Harry allowed his eyes to slide away from the tall Host and caught sight of a violent red blur that could only be Kasanoda's head, and he didn't have to guess who the third set of steps was; wherever Mori went, Hani was sure to be found.

"I'm okay," he informed them easily, slightly annoyed at how his nose affected his speech (1), and more so at how moving his mouth sent ripping pain through his already throbbing nose. Mori simply raised his eyebrow in a way that said quite easily "oh really?" Harry wondered why he was still crouched like that. "It could be worse. I could have turned and been hit in the face."

"But Harry-chan! You're bleeding," Hani said, his voice sounding thick and more serious than usual. Harry glanced in the direction of his voice to find him close at his side and within proper viewing distance.

Harry simply shrugged and placed his hands on the ground again, ignoring the sting as he got his feet under him and pushed himself into a standing position. Upon doing so, he found the world leaning and he tried to shift his own weight to compensate; it was only Mori's quickness in grabbing his shoulder kept him from falling over again. Harry looked up and noted a hint of amusement in the taller boy's eyes, though he was still deadly serious.

A sudden whooshing noise was all the warning that came before Harry was teetering again and he found the air full of shards from more roof tiles. His arm was grabbing once more by Mori before he his knees could buckle and the latest tiles could fall broken to the ground. A shout came from an upper-floor window that sounded like "Go Mori-senpai!" in the twins' voices. Harry just wanted the world to quit spinning quite so quickly, and to grab his bag for that headache cure. It wouldn't help his sudden vertigo, but at least he wouldn't hurt anymore.

Several things about that were not going to be easy, the least of which being that he couldn't stand properly. He couldn't see very well, his three-foot bubble of relatively-okay vision being easily beaten by where his bag had been placed (the other side of the bench, which was several feet away by that point). Also, Mori didn't seem inclined to trust that he could stand on his own, so he probably wouldn't be letting go of his arm. A wise move, but Harry was having a hard time thinking of that since he was a bit preoccupied with keeping the blood spillage to himself and trying to make his headache vanish by pure force of will. Blood was impossible to get out of clothes, and while it wouldn't make a dent in Mori's bank account if he did drip on the guy, it was a waste regardless.

"Mori-senpai," Harry looked up, again fighting a grimace at the pain of speaking. He _needed_ that potion, or else for someone to knock him unconscious. "Can I get my bag? I need a pain killer. Badly." He wanted very much to just curl up and die or something, but he really had to get this over with and probably call Sirius to take him to a healer's office.

_But if I'm totally fine tomorrow, unnecessary questions are going to come up_, he grimaced mentally, though his eye twitched and the raw flesh on the bridge of his nose stung at the light tug. If he ever found out who threw those tiles, they would not live to see the next day.

"I'll get it!" Hani volunteered quickly and a few trotting steps could be heard as he moved to pick up the discarded school bag. "Harry-chan, which one do you need?" From the light clinking noise, it sounded as if he was already digging through the potions pouch.

"It's orange, he most violently orange one there," replied Harry. Now his eyes were hot and stinging. He was _not_ going to cry, damn it! No matter how much it hurt he wasn't going to cry. He didn't cry when Dudley punched him on the nose or when Vernon shoved him in the cupboard; after a while he even stopped letting Petunia's insults about his mother get to him. If he could manage to not cry when an acromantula broke his leg, surely he could do the same when it was just his nose.

It was a lot harder to ignore his nose though, and head wounds bled a lot. How much longer until he would be unconscious? It had only been a minute, maybe even two, but it hurt and it wasn't stopping. Hani returned with Harry's bag in his arms and shoved a cool phial into his hand – the one attached to an arm that was not in a death grip courtesy of Mori. The cool crystal soothed the scrapes on his hand, and a quick look was all he needed to verify that it was what he wanted. In one quick motion (which _really_ hurt his nose and hurt the rest of his head enough as well too much to keep from cringing) he wrenched the stopper out with his teeth – technically, he really wasn't supposed to do that because it compromised the integrity of the phial – and drank half of the potion without remorse.

The pain receded for the most part, though there was still a dull throbbing, and he was still plenty dizzy – was it from blood loss? If it wasn't, then _shouldn't_ it be a concussion? – but at least it didn't hurt so much that he couldn't think of anything else anymore.

"Much better," he sighed. He was still trying to lean to catch his balance, which did exactly the opposite, but he had just suffered head trauma from an insane flying tile. He deserved a little slack, if only for that reason... well, Harry deserved such slack for any number of reasons, just the most prevalent ones at that moment had to do with the sudden blow to his head (and pride).

"Can you walk?" Harry jerked in surprise and looked up. Well, he was hardly ever around the Hosts, so this was probably only the third, maybe fourth time that he had ever heard Mori say a full sentence (usually he was only around to hear the older boy say "Aa" or "Hn" as positive and negative answers respectively). He liked the older boy's voice, maybe because he heard it so seldom. Considering Mori had been the star of some wet dreams in the past months, maybe he should have felt awkward, but he hadn't been awkward around Hermione in fourth year when she had a similar role. Several other people he'd met casually around the school did as well; heck, Nekozawa had even starred in a few!

... Maybe he shouldn't be thinking about that, though.

"Not sure," Harry replied as if his thoughts were not wandering a dangerous path. Maybe it was lucky that he didn't have much blood to rush anywhere. If he walked, his heart rate would increase, as would his blood loss, but if he didn't walk, that might mean Mori would carry him and his valiant endeavor to keep his lost blood localized would be in vain. He would probably need a couple deciliters of blood replenishing potion by the time this was over, too.

Slowly, Harry raised his leg and immediately tilted straight away to the side. He would have fallen flat on his back (and the back of his head, and he becoming more and more sure that there were shards of tile embedded there that would have to be pulled with tweezers before he could be healed) if Mori hadn't jerked his arm forward.

"I guess not," Harry murmured with a sigh. Now what?

"Morinozuka-nii-sama," Kasanoda said, "class starts soon." A prod to get them moving along, then. Kind of a silly thing to point out; lunch break was a full hour and there was at least twenty minutes left. How was that "soon"? Of course, Kasanoda had taken to carrying Mori's bag for him (Harry had no clue why he'd decided to be the older boy's disciple; they were nothing alike) so he would need time to get to his own class as well.

"Aa," was the flat response from Mori. All of a sudden, Harry found himself with his feet no longer planted loosely on the ground and he wondered if he had actually fallen over even with Mori's hand wrapped around his bicep, but he soon found himself corrected as he found another arm holding him under his knees, and the hand on his arm connected to one of Mori's that was wrapped under his shoulder. Harry turned crimson. He was being carried _bridal style_; it would be better for his health than a fireman's carry – the blood rushing to his head would be no fun – but it was still beyond embarrassing. And he was getting blood all over the senior.

Damn.

* * *

The next day, Harry returned to school with a brace on his nose, twenty-three stitches in the back of his head, and a generous wrapping of gauze covering them and his forehead to cover any bruising as well. He would have healed them magically, but it had been damned obvious considering he had to leave school midday to go to a hospital and even had to get a blood transfusion while he was there. The large bruises around his eyes from getting his glasses smashed into his face hadn't helped, either. Plus his contacts itched.

The only real highlight of his day was that Hedwig came to visit him after school. He had been doing his usual studying, for chemistry since he had to do a lab write up over the weekend and Harry was fairly certain that Sirius would be busy wooing Ranka so he'd have time to write it, and was quite happy to find that Hedwig was tapping on the window and holding a letter – quite odd considering she had definitely been home that morning and no one was nearby who she would have pestered for a letter. She roosted on him while he read the letter (it was from Sirius and said that he was taking Ranka away for the weekend) and did his homework (but did it really matter if a magnesium ribbon turned to ash in flames?).

With Hedwig resting on his shoulder, Harry exited the room just before the club was closing. He was surprised when she took off suddenly and swooped across the room to land on Kasanoda's shoulder. The boy jumped and just stared at the owl, dumbfounded, as he had the first time.

"Sorry, Kasanoda-san," Harry reached to rub the back of his neck, recalled the bandages, and transformed the movement into a small wave. "I guess she wants to visit with you again."

"Uh... yeah," Kasanoda was nose-to-beak with the snowy owl for a moment before he reached up and stroked her back earning a hoot of approval and a nip on the ear while she settled in properly. Harry kept a close eye on the pair, knowing he was stuck until Hedwig decided to leave; she was stubborn and he didn't trust Kasanoda to be around his bird unsupervised.

Instead of attempting to cajole Hedwig into leaving the semi-scary yakuza heir, Harry rested against a wall with his Chemistry book in his hands, pretending to be engrossed in the chapter (something about "moles" (2)) while he kept his attention trained on the room itself. He had to admit that at least contact lenses had the advantage of him not having to worry about things getting blurry if he looked over the frames.

Ten minutes later, Kasanoda was looking antsy as he sat, and the reason became obvious to Harry in seconds (beyond the standard "his car was waiting" thing); Hedwig was still perched on his shoulder and had fallen asleep. Harry grimaced. She hated to be touched when she was asleep, and waking her up would just get him bitten and then stuck without her attention for a good week or so as she would devote herself to making him jealous by hanging about with Sirius – or, while Sirius was gone, just ignoring him.

Harry explained this pretty well to the crimson-haired youth, though neither of them was entirely sure what to do about it. While Harry had all the time in the world to himself since Sirius was going to be gone for the weekend, Kasanoda couldn't sit around for hours without his "brothers" at home worrying about him.

Haruhi was the one who suggested that, since Harry couldn't trust Kasanoda with Hedwig without him being there, that he just go with the other first year to his house until the owl woke up. Neither could find a reasonable excuse _not_ to do so, and in the end, they did. Kasanoda's driver seemed a mix of ecstatic (an emotion which was carefully hidden) and nervous when they both got into the car. Harry had a feeling that Kasanoda Ritsu didn't often – if ever – have people come home with him from school. He also suspected that the driver might think that it was, perhaps, Kasanoda who had smashed his face in, which he hadn't, but at first appearance...

Well, Harry didn't bother doing much beyond having a pleasant conversation with Kasanoda about foreign languages; the boy from 1-D was apparently fond of learning languages and could speak Japanese, two Chinese dialects, and was working on English in earnest. Harry offered his help with that, considering he was more than a little fluent.

It was pleasant, and Hedwig woke up as Kasanoda was stepping out of the car. She nipped his ear in thanks for being a willing perch and transferred herself over to Harry's shoulder for some much-wanted chest pets. That should have been the end of it.

"Should" being the operative word in that sentence, it obviously was not. Harry was all set to start walking home (or to an apparition point, the nearest being about a mile away) while Kasanoda entered his house. Instead, he was suddenly surrounded by the "brothers" of the Kasanoda-gumi, who were all sending him speculative glances.

"Er, can I help you?" He asked curiously. Kasanoda was an alright sort, and he seemed to like these guys but Harry wasn't so sure. One of them – a boy who looked only a year or two older than Harry – seemed exasperated by them.

"Don't mind them, we're just curious about the young master's friend," his smile had to be as innocent and open as Haruhi's, which was mildly disconcerting. "I'm Tetsuya; and you?"

"Potter Harry," he replied, slightly baffled. "This is Hedwig." He pointed to his owl and shrugged one shoulder. Were they going to kidnap him, or...?

"It's nice to meet you, Harry-kun. Why don't you come in for a bit? The young master doesn't talk to us about school much, and we're curious." A vague opening and it made Harry feel all the more intimidated. This guy had to have the nicest disposition ever, and it was obvious even from the few words that he cared for "the young master," but that didn't make Harry feel any less like he was about to be kidnapped or something. Not that he had much of an option, and he could always apparate away if need be.

They had him seated comfortably within minutes, and Harry was trying to take stock of possible exits, but it _was_ yakuza; he had really very little idea of how they worked. For all he knew they were going to use him for ransom or something.

"Looks like something pretty bad happened. Who did that to you?" Tetsuya asked, a concerned look on his face. Harry heard a murmuring outside the room where the rest of the "brothers" were (only Tetsuya had come into the room with him) that sounded as if they were speculating that maybe Kasanoda had done it. Harry just smiled, mimicking the boy in front of him.

"No clue, but I don't think they were aiming for me in the first place," Harry shrugged as he watched the other boy prepare tea. He wasn't much on Japanese teas; he was more of a mint person, or other standard blends used in England, but he wasn't going to be rude or anything. "They threw a roof tile and I happened to move at the wrong time. It doesn't hurt anymore though, so I don't mind."

"Was the young master around at the time?"

"He was nearby, I think; he and two of the seniors came to help before two more tiles were thrown," he really didn't want them thinking that Kasanoda had done it. What if they thought he was some sort of enemy? Sure, it was paranoid, but he needed to be sometimes.

"I think I know who did it then; a group of boys from your school took care of them yesterday. I take full responsibility for their actions," Tetsuya was looking down, as if mortified. Harry gulped. Here he was worried that they were going to kidnap him, and this guy was taking responsibility for him getting hurt, which couldn't have been his fault!

"Don't worry about it, Tetsuya-san. I'm already on the mend; my business deals heavily in medical supply and with the medicines I am taking for it, I should be alright in no more than a week." The very way he spoke sounded foreign to him, and not because he was speaking a foreign language. The older boy smiled happily at him and seemed to pretend the whole thing never happened.

About ten minutes later of polite chitchat and Harry taking sips from his tea only occasionally (it was too bitter, but he would live), Tetsuya surprised Harry with a sudden topic change. "What do you know about Fujioka Haruhi?"

"Wha – um, a fair amount, I guess," he blinked. "We're neighbors and in the same class after all. Any reason?" Were they going to kidnap _her_ instead?

"The... the young master had expressed an... _interest_," Tetsuya seemed to stumble over himself, but Harry prided himself on being observant. He caught the gist of what was being said and sighed.

"Poor guy," he shook his head, sipping his tea. He looked up to find a glare leveled at him that did _not_ fit the pleasantly girly face of Tetsuya.

"What did you say about the young master?"

"I... well, I just feel sorry for him is all; Haruhi-san is very popular and the Host Club is very protective of her. You'd be hard pressed to find a girl more oblivious to romantic advances than her." He looked up again and found the other boy looked slightly flabbergasted. Had he been wrong about what was meant by "interest"?

"Fujioka is a girl?" Tetsuya asked. A quiet cheer went out in the courtyard and Harry blinked. He... had not meant to reveal her secret.

_If I'm skinned alive by the Hosts_, he grumbled_, at least someone will know why_.

He hoped that Kasanoda already knew she was a girl, because if the "brothers" had their way, he suspected that the other first year would be very surprised.

**Author's Note: Heh... I hadn't noticed 'til after I wrote it, but I had Harry kinda copy the advice Haruhi gives to Kasanoda, but I swear I hadn't read that bit in weeks until after I wrote it! Promise. I changed it, but it's still quite similar. Yes, Harry is intimidated by Tetsuya of all people... I found the idea funny :)**

**So that I'll stop getting messages asking about it, I'm telling you lot that Remus will be in the story, and I'm going to pair him with Tonks. I like Teddy too much to deny his existence. Still not sure about Haruhi's pairing; like I said, leaning to Kasanoda, but only because he's awesome and no one ever pairs them which makes me sad. I'm open to suggestions though; since it wouldn't be the main pairing, I don't much care who it is really, and I'll decide when it comes up.**

**Changed the genres (again) because 1) I suck at picking them (I've said this before, right?) and 2) Utena-Puchiko-nyu's designation of Friendship/Romance is a lot better than what I had, so... yeah.**

(1) Since he's speaking Japanese and not English, I'm not having him mispronouncing things in text, but actually speaking it would sound like he's speaking with a broken nose.

(2) Über-ginormous number. I think it's something like 6.26 times 10 to the 23 power or something... don't remember, I try not to. I hated that unit of my chemistry class so much... but we got extra credit if we made a stuffed mole (mine was Moldemort) so it wasn't _that_ bad. (Other ideas I had were Molsus (Moses) and Albus Dumblemol.)


	12. Chapter 12

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 12

Immediately after he arrived back at the complex, Harry dropped by Haruhi's apartment, informed her of his slip-up with telling Kasanoda's men that she was really a girl, and found out in the process that at least Kasanoda already knew. It was a small relief, but a relief none the less. He spent his evening doing homework, his Saturday flying, and his Sunday at the hospital, with some of the trainees trying to fuss about him for his injuries. By Monday, the nose brace was off and his head unwrapped; he was back to normal and picked up his new glasses that morning before school started. He skipped out on studying for the day and went straight home to hang out with Sirius for a bit. Harry was in an oddly good mood, and couldn't really pinpoint why.

On Tuesday, he decided he wasn't too surprised to see that it was inexplicably Spring at Ouran yet again, but it was only the thirteenth of September, a good six months before it ought to be. The cheery trees were in full bloom as they often seemed to be at Ouran despite the fact that they were only supposed to blossom once a year. He had long since decided that he would stop being surprised by things like that at Ouran.

On Wednesday, Harry was running late – perhaps Sirius was intending to make a habit of unplugging his alarm clock? He later found out that there had been a power outage – and had to dash through the halls to make it to his class on time. He managed to make it two minutes before the bell and was very much glad that he'd done so much running in his formative years; he'd had to dash all the way from the nearest Approved Apparition Point since it was such a busy time of day, and that was the better part of a mile away, closer to Ourin than Ouran.

He took a moment to compose himself outside of the classroom (was it just him or were there more people than usual in his classroom?) before entering as if he hadn't just run a mile. He wasn't wrong about there being a lot of people in the room, either, as he found quite a few upper classmen – including the second year Hosts – in the room, all crowded around one part of the room near his usual desk.

"Don't they have their own classes to get to?" he asked as he sidled up next to Haruhi and the twins. They all jumped and looked at him like he had three heads (not like he had looked at Fluffy of course; that had been more of a horrified "is it going to eat us?" sort of look), and Harry felt more than a little disgruntled. So their attitudes were still persisting after a few weeks, then. Whatever had gotten into them – he was surprised that what he had said affected Haruhi at all, considering what she was like as a person, but apparently it had – it was getting on his nerves. Harry scowled. "Fine."

He turned on his heel, sitting on one of the desks up front to wait for people to stop crowding. Someone was talking, a girl with a light tone and an accent that made him think of somewhere in Europe, and from the sounds of it complaining about every little thing. Air-conditioning aggravates her skin? That was so... so... inane! And Host King was, from the sound of it, her willing lap dog.

The bell rang, but the crowds only dispersed partially. Tamaki continued fussing about the girl and Kyouya called his bodyguards (or whatever they were) while Harry snorted derisively and gave up taking his usual seat, settling for one of the other side of the room that usually remained unoccupied. He wasn't even going to look.

With the girl (people kept calling her "princess" so he figured she was some visiting royal) being pampered in the back of the room and going on and on about something or other (he blanked it out, focusing on reading what they were supposed to read for their literature course for the day, but considering the girl was there it likely wasn't happening on schedule), class didn't actually start for a good half hour, and Tamaki didn't actually leave since he seemed to be acting as the girl's escort.

As the teacher called roll – why he bothered since he knew who everyone was, Harry didn't know – Harry only half paid attention. He heard "Hitachiin Kaoru" called, then "Hitachiin Hikaru", "Hirota Yuzuki", "Fujioka Haruhi", and "Hokusai Sakumo" before the name "Potter Harry" was called.

"Present," he intoned in a bored manner, the same as everyday – if a half hour later.

"Harry Potter? As in _the_ Harry Potter?" This was said in English with some accent that Harry barely recognized. The _princess_ then. Most higher-ups in government, even figureheads, knew about the wizarding world to some extent, so he shouldn't be too surprised. He sighed, exasperated. Now she was going to latch onto him, probably, and he'd have to deal with leading the spoiled little girl around campus until she left. If she didn't have an arranged marriage with someone already, she would probably try and woo him, too. One of the daughters of the Emperor's first born son had already made an attempt.

"Is that a problem?" Harry replied flatly, also in his native tongue. There was a soft click of shoes, rapid, and he was surprised to see a figure in a yellow dress standing in front of the desk he had chosen for the day, which was in the front row. He looked up and blinked. No way... was that - "Princess Michelle?"

"I haven't seen you since your knighting!" She was positively beaming, and Harry had no idea what to say or do. The pampered princess who complained about having the _air-conditioning_ on was the same level-headed princess he had met last year? Somehow, that seemed terribly wrong. The Princess Michelle he had met was spoiled, true, but she had a sort of humility about her. This girl, while she looked like her, had a completely different personality.

"Princess, I would prefer if that was not brought up," the knighting itself had been a small affair, for a knighting, and the news hadn't much spread. Everyone who wasn't in the know believed it was because he was the owner of a large company that helped with the English economy and brought a lot of attention. In reality, it was simply because he was Harry Potter. He leveled her with a stare that could be construed to mean many things and looked her straight in the eye before switching back to Japanese. "Would you mind terribly much if we continued with class, Princess? That _is_ rather the point of going to school, isn't it?"

The class seemed to hold its breath, some seeming ready to blow their tops at him for speaking to her that way, while others were likely concerned as to what the repercussions would be from the bratty princess. Michelle surprised them all.

With a kindly smile, she nodded. "Of course. How silly of me; I didn't mean to disturb you," and then she went back to her couch at the back of the classroom to the collective shock of the top first-year class. Harry caught the awe-filled looks that the Hitachiin twins were sending him, but he merely leveled a cold glare their way. If they were going to go from ignoring him to worshipping him that quickly, then they were just as bad as the wizards back home.

Class continued without a hiccup after that. There were no unreasonable requests, no interruptions, nothing of the sort until morning break. It seemed Tamaki was intending to escort Michelle out, but she stopped by Harry's desk where he was shoving his things rather robotically back into his bag. He looked up.

"Yes, Princess?" He inquired, hoping to escape quickly. She had been quite nice at their first meeting, but if this was her true face...

"I was wondering if you would act as my escort later?" she requested, sending another false smile at him as she spoke in English. "Mr Suou does, after all, have his own classes to attend and I –" but Harry cut her off. He knew it was rude, exceedingly so, but he couldn't stand it. Yes she was royalty, and yes she could probably turn him in to Dumbledore and the British Ministry, but that was hardly the point, in his mind. His stare from earlier returned.

"Princess Michelle, with all due respect, you do not seem the same girl who I met in November. She was kind, not one to complain about such trivial things as _air-conditioning_," that one was what really got him, "and from what I heard before class today, you were thinking far more of keeping up appearances – bad appearances at that – over what your brother would _think_ of your behavior. I can tell _quite_ clearly that you are not the princess I met, no matter your appearance. I will have to decline; if you will excuse me, I am going to my next class."

It was cold, even to him. It was cutting and ruthless and not the least bit polite, no matter the words he picked and the way his sentences flowed. He could actually be arrested for speaking like that to her, if he had been in Monale, but he didn't much care. Harry had been putting up masks his entire life, in different styles. As a child he held a mask as being pitiful to protect himself, at Hogwarts one of being a dumb jock to keep himself in line with the person he _thought_ was his best friend, and here he had shown himself to be aloof and uninterested in social interaction outside of a few rare times. But he would not mask his disdain for her. It would get him in trouble, but he knew when he first heard her speaking that he wouldn't be able to stand her, and even after finding out who she was he knew he was right.

With swift strides he made his way to study hall. It wasn't technically a class, but the rest of 1-A had English, and he had tested out by virtue of being fluent, so the slot had been filled with forty-five minutes of studying before he had history with the rest of 1-A. He wasn't happy to find that, mere minutes after he arrived, a slightly disgruntled (but still being very gracious and debonair) Tamaki entered with Michelle on his arm. She bid him to leave – one of Kyouya's men was carrying her bag – and sat herself at Harry's table. He ignored her with practiced ease, even as the few others with study hall at that time gravitated to their table to speak with the princess about whatever they thought she might be interested in.

Michelle brushed them off and continued staring at the top of Harry's head as he flipped through the new literature assignment. If he could have some peace and quiet, it would be done before his study period was over, and then he would only have math, chemistry, and maybe some French work to worry over after school.

"Harry... Sir Potter..." she tried several variations to get his attention before resorting to one of his most hated titles, "Vanquisher."

"Princess Michelle, again with all due respect," he stated, not looking up, "what is the point of attending school if I do not have the opportunity to study in peace? I have already given you my opinion and declined as politely as I could manage your most _generous_ offer."

"And _I_ haven't even got a chance to defend myself," she snapped back, the absolute vitriol of her statement causing several nearby studiers to jump and drop books. Harry looked up from his book and straight into sky blue eyes, surprised at her statement. What was there to defend? "I... my brother... I didn't want to come. My brother decided for me, and I wasn't even to come for another month yet. He wanted me to see to cherry blossoms at Ouran, and they only bloom once a year..." she let out a sigh. "If I'm insufferable, they will have to send me back, won't they?"

Harry was still not impressed, but slightly less unimpressed than before. "Princess Michelle, the cherry blossoms at Ouran have bloomed at least five times in the less than six months that I have been attending, so I wouldn't surprised if they bloomed again in October or even January just to mess with our heads. Besides, they're supposed to bloom in April normally, not September. You might as well enjoy it, if that's what your brother wants, right? Making everyone here hate you isn't going to help you, and your brother wouldn't be pleased with your behavior. Now I really _do_ have to study."

The princess was very subdued after that, and while rumors spread like wildfire about why Harry showed such disdain for the princess and why she seemed to be seeking him out (some believed that they were engaged, others that she had fallen in love with him at first sight, and still more that they were childhood friends), Harry ignored all of it with practiced ease. If Hogwarts had taught him nothing else, it was how to deal with attention: positive, negative, and neutral.

Michelle was gone by the end of the week, so Harry really didn't much care. They did visit with each other after she _properly_ explained herself. They had dinner together with her brother and Sirius at a very high-end place – Sirius bought out the whole evening's reservations so they wouldn't be bothered by reporters or anyone else inside – and Harry stopped being so cold by the time she was gone, so in the end everything worked out alright. In general, though Harry found her childish ruse to be just that, she was still the same girl who he had met at his knighting.

* * *

On Saturdays, Harry liked to sleep in. He had decided in August that, while he wasn't immersed in his future, he could take Saturdays off as personal days and spend them sleeping in, flying, and maybe doing a few other things as whim took him. He would either wake up when he decided he wanted to wake up or when Sirius came to make sure he wasn't dead or anything. Then he would lounge in bed for an hour or two and think like he did every morning (excluding mornings when Sirius turned off his alarm).

It had been considered a given after the last few weeks that he could sleep as late as he liked on Saturday, and no one could stop him.

So, when Harry woke from a dream that had been starting to become pleasant, he noticed several things that didn't make very much sense. The first was that he couldn't feel the tingle of his room being magically expanded which _really_ shouldn't have happened without any warning considering he specifically asked Sirius to warn him if he was going to bring Ranka up.

Second, he noticed that the sun wasn't high enough in the sky to drench his bed in sunlight, either, which meant it was still before eight in the morning. There wasn't the insistent warmth of sunlight on his blankets or anything, and he could tell that it was too early to be awake on a Saturday from that alone.

The third thing he noticed was a surprise. The extra sag on his mattress was _not_ something imagined from his dreams, nor the hand on his shoulder and the notable pattern of another's breath within the room. Harry's eyes instantly opened into his pillow and he jerked his head up. Eyes swiping by the window before he rolled toward the wall and saw that there was someone sitting on his bed, hand still slightly outstretched from shaking him lightly awake, eyes locked on Harry's forehead, his own brow furrowed.

Harry noticed the latter quickly and covered his scar with a hand in a semi-casual "please don't look at that" gesture. "Mori-senpai, what are you doing in my room?" He was fairly certain that of the Hosts, only Kyouya and Haruhi knew which apartment was his. He was also fairly certain that only people in possession of keys to said apartment were the landlady, Sirius, and Harry himself, which made him wonder how the older boy got into the flat at all.

Mori's eyes looked at Harry's forehead for another moment, even though his view was cut off by a hand, before his gaze moved down minutely to Harry's eyes. The most famous wizard since Pre-Betrayal Dumbledore sat up and leaned heavily against the window at his back. A moment passed before Mori shrugged.

"Kidnapping you," the answer was succinct, holding a small hint of amusement (or so Harry thought he heard in the brief monotone, but he wasn't entirely certain). Harry blinked owlishly in surprise. That was... unexpected; no flying this weekend, then.

Harry tossed the blankets aside with a sigh and slid off the end of the bed, stretching easily. He was quite glad then that he hadn't taken Sirius' advice of sleeping in the buff (the man had something against getting fabric-marks in his sleep and had suggested the idea to Harry, who instantly refused) because that would have made the entire situation a lot more awkward. The fact that he slept only in pajama bottoms on warmer nights was making it discomfiting enough as it was.

"You mind?" He sent a pointed glance to Mori and then the door. The older boy seemed to blink for a moment as if he hadn't been expecting him to say anything before nodding, getting up off of Harry's bed, and leaving the room.

As soon as the small, sliding door closed with a small "click", Harry rushed back to his bed, flung open the window, and took a deep breath of fresh spring-in-late-summer air, a great relief to be sure. There was a muggle in the apartment, the expansions had collapsed... he was amazed he could handle the confined space for the half-minute he had! With Mori in the apartment, there was no way he could take a shower either, beyond the awkwardness of being naked with someone else inside, the bathroom was tiny and windowless. But that was beside the point; right now all he cared about was breathing and escaping the confines of his room.

After about a minute of having his head out the window and trying to calm down – he did _not_ need to have another panic attack around Mori – Harry got off of his bed and made his way to the middle of the (very) modestly sized room, which despite his seemingly compulsive cleaning, was as messy as any other teenager's room, if a bit less chaotic. He sighed and cast some cleaning charms on himself so he at least wouldn't seem overly messy as a person.

"Are casual clothes alright, Senpai?" the thin walls didn't stop sound, so he barely had to raise his voice above normal.

"Bring swim trunks," Mori responded, voice only slightly muffled. Harry nodded to no one and got ready, though he was annoyed to note that his swim shirt was missing. But the Hosts did already know about the scars on his arms. Aside from one on his shoulder from the dragon almost two years ago, he didn't have any others anyway. For a couple minutes, he lamented that he had to wear contacts for the day instead of his glasses – glasses always seemed so much safer for some reason – but he didn't want to be swimming blind.

It did seem rather random for Mori to come kidnap him before eight am on a Saturday to go swimming though. He suspected Tamaki's handiwork; he'd probably only been invited/kidnapped as an after thought, too.

Minutes later, he entered the main room of the house small as it was (he locked his gaze on the window for a good ten seconds immediately after entering). Mori was standing and facing the wall next to the door where the only two non-magical pictures that Sirius and Harry owned were displayed, the rest carefully veiled by the notice-me-not that encompassed every blatantly magical item in the flat. Harry made his way to kitchen area to grab a quick breakfast.

"I'm going to grab a muffin; do you want one? They're blueberry," Harry asked as he pulled the box from a cupboard. He'd baked them last night to eat for breakfast anyway.

"Thank you," Mori intoned. Harry tore his glance from the window to see the senior was still staring at the photos.

"The one on the left is a picture of my parents and Sirius," Harry said quietly as he walked over. "It was taken just after they graduated from school. The brunette man is another friend of theirs from school, Lupin Remus. Good man, fantastic teacher." Wormtail's image had been erased from the photo altogether; he ruined it for Harry and Sirius, and the blank space was much prefered. Harry's maternal grandparents had wanted a picture they could display in their house of their daughter and her boyfriend; the other Marauders weren't ones to let themselves be taken out either (rather, Sirius wasn't and dragged Pettigrew and Remus in). "On the right is one of me and some... friends."

It was a picture from the Burrow, before Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts. It was taken in the orchard where they played Quidditch, though they hadn't been that day. On the left side was Harry, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck, unsure of what to do in the photo (all before it had been taken against his will, after all, so he had no idea how to pose properly). On the right was Ron, looking bored – Harry had considered taking him out of the picture, but it was lopsided without a third person, and erasing him wouldn't help any – and staring up at the clouds (he wanted to be flying). Hermione was in the middle, smiling happily at the camera; she'd been the only one who knew what to do for a muggle picture (Ron had figured he would move about and had been shocked to see his boredom shone without change).

Like Harry's mother's parents, Hermione's wanted a muggle photo of their daughter and her friends that they could display in the house or at their practice. Hermione had Ginny take the picture with the muggle camera her parents had sent with her. When the pictures were developed, the Grangers had an extra one made up for Harry and Ron each.

"Granger Hermione, the girl, died a year ago at King's Cross, and Ron... well, he wasn't a very good friend. You wouldn't think he was related to Fred and George at all," Harry turned away from the pictures on the wall and handed Mori a muffin. "Should I bring a cake for Hani-senpai?"

It is human nature to apologize for tragedies that they had nothing to do with; Harry was glad that Mori didn't. They left the apartment with their muffins and Harry carried his bag with potions, towel, and swim trunks inside along with a cake-box in his arms, the box of muffins sitting on top of that one (he figured he could share with the rest of the Hosts if they wanted any muffins). He noted that Mori locked the door on his own before Harry could even fish his own key out of his pocket. The keychain with a black dog on it signified them as Sirius'.

The rest of the Hosts were downstairs already at the cars (the neighbors seemed less affected than they used to be at the sight of the fancy automobiles given the Ouran guys dropped by on occasion). Tamaki was facing away from the building, and Harry could very definitely hear him say, "Where's Mori-senpai?"

They hadn't been planning on inviting him, then. Or, if they had, Tamaki didn't know. Harry suspected it was more along the lines of the former and turned his eyes to the stairs beneath his feet. It was one thing for him to do things with them on occasion at school because that was usually caused by Hani wanting to include him (or Kyouya acting to gain some sort of favor with Sirius), but he wasn't invited and this wasn't school. If the King didn't know he was coming, he wasn't meant to come.

Mori invited him anyway.

Harry stopped suddenly just before dismounting the staircase. The reason? Mori had placed his hand on the smaller boy's head. He looked up and blinked, surprised at the gesture and minute smile on the older boy's face. Not that he hadn't seen Mori smile before, it wasn't entirely uncommon, but Mori had never smiled at him. It was a nice gesture, and while he didn't think that the older boy knew what he was comforting Harry for, it did make him feel a bit better. At least one member of the Host Club wasn't treating him like some sort of exotic weed that they had to keep away from... though if he were some exotic weed, Harry wouldn't put it past Tamaki to be stupid and get himself poisoned or something.

Mori handed the key back to Sirius – after knocking on the door to Haruhi's flat and getting him to come out – and they descended the stairs. Harry was rather surprised that Tamaki hadn't noticed them on their way down, but everyone else seemed pretty calm – Hani was quite well assured that his classmate would be returning soon – so he tried not to think on it. He just hoped that they wouldn't feel that he was intruding as much as he did.

"Takashi's back!" Hani cried happily as they approached the cars. It was silly, but Harry felt like hiding behind Mori as everyone turned away from the cars. He didn't, of course, because it _was_ silly, and he had no reason to hide even though they obviously hadn't planned on inviting him if they hadn't known Mori was coming to kidnap him.

If Harry could have done so, he would have scratched the back of his head as a calming gesture, but he was holding the box with the cake for Hani and the muffins and he didn't trust that by shifting them they wouldn't fall. Instead, he lifted the boxes slightly in a shrug and nodded at the group.

"'Morning," he greeted pleasantly, pretending that he was oblivious to the fact that he hadn't actually been invited by the club. What was he supposed to say? "I brought some blueberry muffins down. You lot want any?" At the very least, it broke the ice a bit as Haruhi nodded and took the top box off the other so she could grab a muffin.

"Thanks Harry-kun," she smiled and began eating the baked good. The rest of the Hosts came and took one as well; the twins and Tamaki sent Harry the same looks that they had been for near on a month. He was pleased to note that Mori took another; obviously making them from scratch had been a good idea (and it had kept Sirius off his back before he went to the okama bar/on a date with Ranka the night before). Harry liked his own cooking, and Sirius didn't have any other choice. It was good to know that others did enjoy the effort he put into it.

With muffins distributed and that box back with Harry – considerably lighter at that – everyone dispersed to whatever car they were in (why they needed to have brought three cars when two of them were stretch limos, Harry had no idea). At Mori's insistence – if one considered a piercing gaze and nod "insisting" – he joined the car with the two seniors in it. The other two cars consisted of the second years and Haruhi, and the last car was solely for the twins' use.

After making sure that his window was open an acceptable amount – Harry didn't want to cause the upperclassmen any discomfort for his phobia, but he couldn't stand to have it any less open than two inches – he smiled tentatively. "Here, Hani-senpai," Harry passed the cake box across the limo for the small martial artist, "I brought you a cake. It's a marble cake with strawberry filling and on top."

Hani grinned, taking the box as it was passed along. Harry had figured he'd like that one; Hani had a thing for strawberries, he knew. "Thank you, Harry-chan!" the way he said it, it was almost as if he hadn't been cautious around Harry, just as the others had been. Though, Harry would admit, with him and Mori it was slightly less pronounced... well, Mori hadn't actually treated him any different considering they didn't interact much. But that wasn't the point; Harry was hoping that maybe the smallest Host was over whatever it was that had them handling Harry with kid's gloves, because it was annoying.

Instead of mentioning this at all, Harry smiled and reclined a bit into the seat. His elbow rested on the ledge below his window, hand catching his chin as he stared outside easily. With one ankle on top of his knee, Harry felt rather relaxed and simply stared at the washed-out blue color of the sky that was only occasionally broken up by clouds. It was almost as if it really were approaching summer, he mused. Considering they were starting another summer break just before the end of the month, it almost made a twisted sort of sense.

When the driver informed them that they were almost at their destination (Harry noted that they were out of town, and wondered how he had missed that), Harry tore his gaze from the window. He was surprised to note that Mori was in the same position as he was. It wasn't one that most people found comfortable since they tended to cross at the knee, and while he could easily imagine Mori being the sort to stare out into space while in a car – he did it often enough at the Host Club – it still seemed a bit... odd. Not a bad odd, but just sort of strange in an interesting manner that he couldn't really describe.

His gaze fell next to Hani, who was asleep with his arms wrapped around Usa-chan. Harry smiled slightly. "Should I wake him up? Since we're almost there," Harry glanced at Mori as he relaxed his own pose, setting both feet on the ground and turning away from the open window.

Mori didn't seem to notice at all, or at least didn't say not to, so Harry took action and leaned across the car and jostled the sleeping senior lightly. Brown eyes flickered open lazily into a glare that could melt flesh off of bones; Harry thought that Snape could take lessons on how to glare like that (but, considering the Potions Master was dead, the thought was redundant), though it wasn't quite so bad as Voldemort's. The fact that Hani didn't have red irises might have helped with that.

"What?" Hani bit out in a voice that promised a slow painful death. For the first time since coming to Ouran, Harry actually feared for his life, if only a little. His panic attack in July and meeting Kasanoda's "brothers" didn't really count.

"We're almost there, Hani-senpai," Harry said, barely managing to keep his shock out of his voice. Was Hani like this every time he was woken up? It would sort of even out Mori's oddly affectionate manner that he seemed to pick up when sleepy that one time, though it was still... disturbing, maybe? Was that the right word? Well, it was close enough.

Hani was glaring death at Harry, who was actually starting to get nervous. It had been a year since the last time someone tried to kill him after all... the tension was broken before Harry could get too worried, though.

"Mitsukuni," even though his tone was the same as always, Harry could catch the slight reprimand in Mori's voice. Hani's eyes went from glare to wide-eyed stare as he turned his head to the side to look at Mori like he was a completely different person than the one who emitted waves of death from every pore.

"Oh," Hani looked kind of sheepish as he said it. "Sorry Takashi, Harry-chan." And he was back to his usual, bubbly self.

The car pulled to a stop and Harry returned his gaze to the window, finding himself pleasantly surprised. When Mori had said to bring a swimsuit, he'd expected one of two things; either Tamaki had made the grave error of wanting to visit a public swimming pool, or else they were going to someone's house to swim, perhaps a private beach again or something. The sight of the clear lake surrounded by woods was nice.

"It's a nice location," he nodded slightly as he unbuckled from the seat (it felt so odd to be riding in a car and be facing the sides instead of the front) and stood slightly crouched in the car. He noticed with an internal chuckle that Mori was bent almost double as he opened the door on his own, not letting the chauffeur do it for him.

It really was a nice spot. The lake was large, though not nearly on the scale of the Hogwarts Lake – more the size of a large Quidditch Pitch – with trees surrounding, including cherry trees that loosed their petals upon the water, though how they had found a part of nature that defied the seasons in the same way Ouran did was a complete mystery. It was reaching the end of what Harry was hoping to be the last bloom of the year, so the trees were mostly bare again and the water had a lot of pale pink spots. A ways up from the edge of the lake a fourth car was parked with a group of Ootori bodyguards who seemed to be setting up a tent, mostly likely for everyone to use to change into their suits. It was a good thing too; the idea of changing outside was more than a little discomfiting.

After everyone had changed into their swimwear – he almost laughed when he found out that the twins were trying (and failing) to get Haruhi to wear a froofy pink bikini – it didn't take long to find everyone in the water. It was around then that Harry remembered part of why he hadn't actually gone swimming in the ocean when he was at Nekozawa's beach; he couldn't swim. It wasn't so bad, of course. He went deep enough in that his chin barely hovered above the water while his toes were firmly entrenched in the thin mud of the lake's bottom, merely watching the others have fun. It was relaxing, not as much as flying, but in a different way.

He should have known better than to think the tentative attitudes of the Hosts would keep the twins in check.

As soon as he had his eyes off of them and had turned his view to the sky, which had the sun barely skimming over the treetops – it was apparently nearing nine, if his watch was right – they struck. Before he could do more than squawk in indignation, the twins had dragged him deeper by either arm. He did not, however, attempt to get away. If he did and they dropped him when he wasn't prepared, he might not manage to keep afloat long enough to get back to a comfortable depth.

When they did release him, Harry managed to keep himself up relatively well, treading water in a sloppy fashion that screamed out his inability to swim properly, but he managed it all the same. It was supposed to be better if he actually moved some, wasn't it? But he'd been moved pretty far out, and not being able to swim properly... well, it could be a problem.

The impish grins on the twins weren't quite as evil as usual, a bit more worried, causing Harry to sigh inwardly. It really _was_ annoying.

He spent a few minutes treading water and simply watching the antics of the Hosts. They seemed quite capable of entertaining themselves without Harry being there, and he didn't doubt if Tamaki had already forgotten his presence entirely as he tried to get Haruhi to play a game of Marco Polo with the rest of them (Harry wondered what that was, but didn't ask; he didn't want to ruin their fun time). It was around then that he made his way back to his previous position – or as close to it as he could manage – in the most discrete manner he could. On the bright side, he didn't splash about too much. On the not so bright side, he got lake water in his eyes.

"Damn it," he swore under his breath. It wouldn't hurt his contacts or anything – he'd used a pair of water proof ones – but when he attempted to open his eyes everything was far too blurry for comfort. He could make out the land though, and the vague blur of white that was the dry-area Kyouya had had set up. Harry made his way over and grabbed his towel from his bag that lay in the dirt, quickly dabbing that not-quite-clean water from his eyes.

When he turned around, he found himself face to faces with the twins and wondered how they had snuck up on him.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked. He noted their eyes were fixed on his chest; were they expecting him to have more scars there, too? He decided to ask. "What, expecting to see whip lashes or something?" He posed it in a jocular manner, but the twins seized up, trading wide-eyed glances as they slowly backed away. Harry's smile faltered. "You guys weren't, were you?"

"Of course not!" Kaoru belted out quickly. They had actually expected him to have whipping scars. Why on earth would they even think that? It did make him wonder if something like that was why everyone had been so skittish in the past weeks. "We were just..." Harry's arms were seized once again as the twins quickly dragged him back into the water. "We were bringing you to play Marco Polo!"

He decided not to correct them. He was much more concerned with what he had done to make them think he had been abused. He hadn't remembered saying anything about the Dursleys to them beyond that they were painfully normal and had barely even mentioned them beyond that they were the ones who raised him. There was no way they would have any suspicions about him having scars like that from what little he'd mentioned unless –

Unless they'd looked him up on the internet. It wasn't exactly hard to do; there had been a fair few articles about him in muggle papers that would have been posted on the web, and quite a few muggleborn witches and wizards might have mentioned him in blogs. He'd come across a chatboard once where people were talking about him because he had gotten curious. It was more than a bit disturbing and far too easy to find. If they had looked up any articles, then they might have seen one about the trial the Dursleys had before they were sent to prison for "abuse."

Harry wrenched his arms out of the twins' grasps and sent them contemplative looks. That was why the Hosts hadn't spoken with him if they could help it, hadn't pestered him or anything. He felt... how did he feel? His blood was boiling, he knew he was angry at them for believing everything the papers say and deciding on a very stupid course of action. He felt sort of sad about that too. And his mouth was dry... fear? He was _afraid_? What did he have to be afraid of?

"No thanks," Harry said before sitting down in the muck, easily shielding his eyes from the splash as he sat chin-high in water. "I'll just watch, I think. I'm no good at Marco Polo." He also had no clue what it was; he heard Tamaki call it a "commoner game" so he figured it was something he'd missed out on by never hitting the community pool in Little Whinging, or else it was a Japanese thing... except they wouldn't make up a game and name it after Marco Polo, so that was out. Maybe it was American.

"Suit yourself," Hikaru shrugged before dragging his brother into deeper water to play their game.

Harry sighed. His life was getting far too complicated – well, it had already been far too complicated – and the Hosts were only exacerbating the matter.

**Authors Note: The first part is all referencing chapters 38 and 39 of the manga. Yes, Harry was knighted; is that so hard to believe? As you probably noticed, in my world the muggles aren't as ignorant as we are painted to be, or rather, wizards aren't as secretive as they think. The second bit is nowhere in canon, just me wanting to get some stuff out of the way.**

**I liked having Harry not hide his exasperation with the princess like everyone else was; I can't imagine him dealing with it canonically or in here. He's nice and patient when he wants to be, but he doesn't tolerate people who whine about things like that all the time and act as if everyone is below them. Example? Malfoy. Another example: the issues he's had with Tamaki.**


	13. Chapter 13

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 13

Four days later after being "kidnapped" by the Hosts – by Mori, rather, since the others really had nothing to do with his being invited – Harry was sitting in the Black Magic Club Room with his club wondering just why they were all meeting on a Wednesday, since club activities were usually reserved for Tuesdays and Thursdays. It became more apparent when Nekozawa brought out a box of dark Victorian costumes.

"What are we, some kind of dark Host Club?" Harry sighed as he leaned back into the chair provided. Nekozawa had moved the club from their usual haunting grounds – the third chemistry room with black room function – to a room in the basement of the North building, putting it as far away from the Host's room as humanly possible while still being indoors and on campus. This had been their official clubroom for the past two weeks, ever since the chemistry teacher who used their room kicked them out for doing a small divination ritual that ended up setting fire to one of the black-out curtains. It was probably because Harry had done a rune incorrectly, but it couldn't be verified considering the fire. The basement, Nekozawa claimed, fit them better anyway.

"Of course not," Nekozawa waved off Harry's complaint. Or, rather, Bereznef did. "I just thought we could change things up a little. You never wear the uniform cloak anyway."

Everyone else seemed relatively alright with the idea, so Harry decided he might as well go along with it, though the ruffles were more than a bit of overkill. In his opinion. No one else seemed to have any issues with it, though as they sat about chatting (if the rest of the school knew the Black Magic Club _chatted_!) he noted that Kanazuki Reiko was doing something with a set of tarot cards at her little table. When a second year in the club by the name of Kokubunji Hiroshi picked up a decorative skull from a counter and started quoting Shakespeare out of boredom, the handle of the door started turning and everyone adopted a pose. Excluding the girl from 1-D who was still playing with her cards.

It was only after they scared off a couple of boys who had gotten lost in the basement that they decided to go back to the usual cloaks (something Kokubunji was happy about since the linen was breezy, and the approaching second-summer was only a week and a half away). Again, except for Kanazuki Reiko.

"Oh? You didn't change Kanazuki-kun?" Nekozawa turned away from where he was talking with the other cloak-wearing boys of the club (Harry suddenly realized that, gender-wise, this club and the Host Club were equal, though most wouldn't know it). "What have you been doing so intently all this time?"

Kanazuki murmured low as she placed another card, "A curse." It was to be expected; Kanazuki favored doing her curses with her deck of specially-made tarot cards from Romania because the small magicks she infused to them, while they weren't entirely effective, did aid in her casting. Usually her curses were small compulsions. In August she had used a minor compulsion on a girl from her class to ask out the boy she liked "because it was annoying that she wouldn't shut up about it". A compulsion was different from the Imperius of course, in that a compulsion usually only removed an inhibition. It could not be used to make someone do what they did not wish to do.

While the rest of the club cheered, Harry looked at the picture she was using s a focus and was surprised to find it was Hani. "What do you have against Hani-senpai?" He asked curiously before the others noted the photo. He glanced at the cards and his eyes widened. She was using them to make him notice something that he wouldn't otherwise, one for love... she wanted him to notice her.

"Actually, he captured my soul," she murmured, staring at the last card she was intending to place for a moment before setting it down. She held her hand to the cards for a moment, allowing a visible glow of magic to form before attaching it to the picture and standing from her position, taking her cloak with her as she went to the side room to change.

While that was going on, Nekozawa started laughing maniacally before a grin spread over his features and he swiped the hair of his wig away from his face. "This is the perfect opportunity to torment Suou-kun," he held the grin in place, Bereznef's small cloth hands rubbing together eagerly. "He was home sick yesterday, was he not? Let's give him our congratulations for getting better so quickly."

"So you want to help our fair maiden capture Hani-senpai's heart without letting her or them know what you're doing?" Harry asked curiously. There were a few items aside from the photo of Hani (which was in a very pretty, expensive frame) that led him to believe the girl was more than a little obsessed, such as one of her class notebooks that was laying out and had his name doodled with little hearts in the margins. He glared at Nekozawa. "Will you stop going through her things? I know rich people don't understand boundaries, but it's just common courtesy."

"Ufufufufufu," Harry really hated it when Nekozawa laughed like that. It was downright creepy... which was probably _why_ he did it. "Club is over for the day, I think. See you all tomorrow..."

And so he turned about, cloak billowing as he made his way to the door, a small bounce in his step. Harry sighed and followed to do damage control, bidding farewell to the other boys and grabbing his bag as he went. He might have wondered how he got into these things, but he was far too used to it, being Harry Potter, a fact that hadn't changed now he was at Ouran.

He arrived only a minute after Nekozawa, but already things had fallen into a state of chaos. Harry mused that he probably should have entered _with_ his club's President, so damage control wouldn't be necessary, but it was rather too late for that. He sighed and entered the room, moving immediately to Hani's side. Allowing Nekozawa to torment Tamaki was preferable to leaving Hani in a state of dismay that even Mori didn't seem to be able to quell.

"Sorry about him, Hani-senpai," he said, "Nekozawa-senpai wanted to come up and torment Tamaki-senpai. You shouldn't worry too much, though. The 'curse' Kanazuki-san put on you is benign, a simple compulsion that wouldn't force you to go against your own wishes."

"But Harry-chan! Neko-chan (1) said I'm going to be a sacrifice!" Hani wailed. How could the senior really act so childish? It was good that he could enjoy his childhood, but Harry's ears were ringing.

"He's just being melodramatic." Internally, Harry was cursing the creepy senior, wondering if he could get away with putting a color-changing hex on his cloak to turn it a vivid pink. "Nekozawa-senpai likes freaking people out and is putting far too much stock into the idea of the curse being malignant. I've already said it's not, and he knows it just as well as I do. Kanazuki-san is just a little... odd when it comes to showing her affections for others; I can't say I know her well, but she won't do anything to harm you, okay? It really isn't anything to worry about. I can even go over the schematics of the curse she used today if you like."

Again, he was glad he had already paid the fees to tell the Hosts about magic. Even though he knew he _really_ shouldn't spend so much time with them, he knew he would for a while probably, and something would be revealed eventually. Sometimes, Harry wished he could just be as unsociable as his mask portrayed him to be, but it wasn't going to happen as he already knew.

It took a good ten minutes of platitudes, Harry was finally able to explain the situation to Hani (and the rest of the Hosts). The clients were already gone, having been scared away by the President of the Black Magic Club.

"You don't actually believe in those curses, do you?" One of the twins – Harry was fairly certain it was Kaoru – asked incredulously.

Harry was still notably displeased with the Hosts for going behind his back to look things up on him. Now that he was looking, Harry could tell just what was going on, and the only ones who seemed over it were Hani – who had been treating him normally since he was hit in the head with the roofing tile – and Mori, but Harry couldn't tell if Mori had ever even changed his treatment since they really didn't interact much. The rest, it seemed, were still at the same stage they had been at before, including Kyouya which was odd since he was supposedly all business.

Either way, Harry was feeling rather short with the ones who were questioning his judgment, and he couldn't just conceal that.

"Of course I do," scoffed the young wizard. "I'm not in the Black Magic Club because I like the cloaks; I actually find them rather tacky, you know, and they're very old fashioned. I'm not exactly the most active in the Club, but I'm considered the most reliable in my curse work and I can do a lot that even Nekozawa-senpai can't do." Considering he had more than enough magic to be considered "wizard" rather than "squib," this was rather a given. "Kanazuki-san favors the use of compulsion curses, which are very minor, but they have a high success rate. The one she wove on Hani-senpai is, as I told him, as benign as they come. The last thing she wants right now is to hurt or scare him, whether she realizes this or not."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tamaki had made a habit of "forgetting" that Harry was a member of the scariest club in school. It was hard to peg him with the others who seemed to enjoy freaking people out, considering he always seemed more concerned with his studies. Harry just wished the older boy would get over his aversion to the club, because as entertaining as it was to see him jump at the mere _mention_ of Nekozawa Umehito, it was just as annoying.

"I'm not at liberty to say, though I'm sure that Nekozawa-senpai will reveal it to you 'subtly' before this is over," Harry stood from the couch he was on. He turned directly to Hani, who was still taking solace in the arms of his tall friend. "Look, have a nice day, don't agonize over what Nekozawa-senpai said to you or over Kanazawa-san's curses, and if you actually need my help on it, feel free to ask me, okay? Goodbye Hani-senpai, Mori-senpai." He nodded to both of them, sent small glares to the rest of them (he felt kind of guilty about treating Haruhi like that, but she was still antsy about him), and turned on his heel.

"Just our seniors?" Kyouya asked when Harry reached the door. He turned slightly and lifted an eyebrow. "That's rather cold of you, Harry-kun."

If Harry hadn't already stopped at the first part, the second would have halted him in his tracks. Kyouya had called him Potter-kun for a while, and retained formality when they became on a first name basis. Familiarity was not part of their usual interactions. Harry completed his turn, watching the "Cool Type" Host warily.

"What do you want, Senpai?" he sighed resignedly. Kyouya didn't answer. "From your silence I can guess it's something personal, not as business based as your usual. Since you brought up my attitude, you find that I have suddenly changed how I treat at the very least yourself, if not the entire club. You mentioned the seniors, therefore you've noticed I'm treating them just the same as always." Again, no response. "Am I wrong? I pride myself on common sense." Unlike most magical people.

"Then you know what I want to know, don't you?" It was phrased as a question, but it wasn't.

"You all trusted the tabloids," Harry shrugged, allowing his scowl to recede. "At some point after your 'interrogation,' really soon after I think, one of you looked me up on the internet and read some articles about me. In particular, you would have found an article printed on October twelfth of last year pertaining to my childhood or any of the follow ups, am I right? Due to evidence regarding general attitude from the 'perpetrators' and witnesses in the form of various teachers and one batty neighbor with far too many cats, my guardians were charged with child abuse. The accusation, trial, and sentencing occurred while I was in a coma, and no one was going to believe the testimony of someone accused of beating someone like me.

"I will freely admit that what happened when I was child was not the way any kid should have been treated, but I would have appreciated it if you had come to me before passing judgment," Harry flicked his gaze to the offending Hosts, and even though Harry had forgiven Hani, he noted that the older boy still looked downcast. Harry could even have sworn that Mori looked guilty despite the fact that he hadn't done anything. "If you lot didn't want me to treat you differently, you shouldn't have done the same just when you decided to try pulling me in. I've forgiven Hani-senpai and Mori-senpai already; Hani-senpai has been treating me normally for two weeks now, and if anything, Mori-senpai warmed up to me a bit after all that, considering he went to the trouble of inviting me to the lake with you all over the weekend when it was obvious none of the rest of you were going to. He and Hani-senpai were the only ones who have been even _remotely_ friendly in the past weeks; they both got over it on their own, I didn't even have to step in."

He paused for breath, face feeling a bit hot. He was angry at them, or at least making himself angry so he wouldn't be sad. They had almost been friends until the interrogation, which he couldn't allow, but they had pushed him away because they had found something out. He didn't want to tell them things, and it might even have been better for all involved if he just kept his mouth shut, but as Harry had admitted to himself weeks ago, he _liked_ the Hosts, enjoyed their company when they weren't annoying him and liked that they would try to include him when it wasn't beneficial that they do so. They had been approaching the line that limited how friendly he could be with someone without being friends or making them into targets quickly, and sudden they jumped back ten paces. It hurt, and pain was easy to cover with anger.

Harry quelled it, though, knowing anger wouldn't get him anywhere whether he gave in to being friends or if he severed all ties with the Hosts. "Just... ask me next time. I don't know what all you know, but I like to think I know more about me than the internet. I'm not your typical abused kid. I don't think what happened was abuse; severe neglect, sure, but it's not like I thought I deserved it. It happened, it's in the past, and it has no bearings on my decision in the here and now. I have a lot of experience with the papers, okay? I know what did and did not happen, and believing a bunch of reporters who just want to make a quick buck off some kid's sob story isn't a good idea. I didn't protest your interrogation because I prefer it when people are direct with me, got it? Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get home and make dinner."

The fact that it wasn't even five yet went unobserved as Harry spun back around and stalked angrily toward the door, leaving in huff. The damage control probably could have waited until it was just Hani and Mori, he realized, but it was too late now; at least _something_ might start happening after his little monologue there (he was surprised no one had made to interrupt him. It seemed like a horribly staged moment).

Two sets of steps clacked in the hall behind Harry as he found is way to the ground floor. One was moving nearly twice as fast as the other, as if one person was significantly shorter than the other. He reasoned it was probably Mori and Hani.

"Harry-chan," it was Hani. "Don't be too hard on them. They..."

"I know, Hani-senpai," he had stopped in the middle of the hallway, half-turned to wait for the seniors to catch up. Actually, he was kind of surprised they had caught up so quickly considering he had speed-walked until he reached the first staircase. "Sometimes you just have to beat the message in though. I use the same method when I'm teaching the doctors at the Ootori hospitals how to use the medicines my company makes. Either they'll take my words to heart or they won't."

"Aa," at least Mori seemed to understand, or Harry thought that the grunt of assent meant such. He smiled up at the tall senior and fell into step with the pair turned trio. After a minute of silent walking, Hani ran ahead suddenly and out the doors, a surprising move considering he hadn't actually said anything to indicate what he would do.

"Is it okay for him to run off like that?" He mused aloud, casting a glance from the corner of his eye to Mori who nodded.

"He's alright," he shrugged stiffly. It wasn't a particularly verbose answer, but considering it was Mori, and Harry could probably count the number of full sentences that the older boy had said to him on just his hands – maybe adding in a few toes to the equation – it was notable. "Thank you for calming him."

"It was nothing; Nekozawa-senpai wanted an opportunity to bother Tamaki-senpai, and Kanazawa-san's curse gave that to him; I had figured coming up after him to do damage control was the least I could do," Harry unknowingly mimicked the older boy's shrug. "Her attention to him really is harmless. As she put it, he captured her soul, but I'm fairly certain it's more along the lines of stealing her heart. She just wants him to notice her, and a curse is the only way she really knows how. I don't want Hani-senpai to worry over something that doesn't merit it, you know? The fact that he's getting to enjoy his childhood, even though he's almost out of school, is a rare thing. I'm happy for him."

Why he said it, Harry couldn't answer, but the small smile on Mori's face made his own a bit wider. He really did envy the smallest Host; he didn't have to worry about anything it seemed, with his friend there to look out for him. It made Harry wonder if Mori ever really got to enjoy his own childhood like his cousin and younger brother seemed to, but he opted not to ask.

"Where is your scar from?" The question was quiet, but Harry caught it easily, halting his foot in mid-step. A sharp in-take of breath came with this as Harry turned his head fully to the wild typed boy at his side. He had completely forgotten that Mori had seen his scar on Saturday when he came to "kidnap" him. This was, he supposed, what he got for requesting they ask him directly if they wanted to know something.

"My parents' murderer," he murmured after a moment. Mori had drawn slightly ahead of him in the pause, and Harry was almost glad the older boy couldn't see his face. What sort of expression was he wearing? His eyes were downcast, hands in his pockets and arms drawn close to his body. He knew he would look sad, defensive, maybe even fearful. There went his good mood for the day. "I got it in the attack on our house when I was a baby. You can understand why I keep it covered."

As his eyes were glued to the floor ahead of him, Harry saw Mori's own steps falter slightly, allowing him to catch up, but Mori didn't continue at his side. Harry paused, waiting for the older boy to catch up the step again, but there weren't any clacking steps. A small sigh passed by his lips. Now he'd made Mori feel awkward for doing as Harry had told him and asking.

"Look, it's not a –" Harry stopped as he looked up, meeting the eyes of the tallest Host, mildly surprised at the emotion he saw there. It wasn't pity or an awkward shifty look that he imagined it might be (though the image of a nervous, shifty Mori did make him smile for a moment since it would be terribly out of character). Not that Harry had any idea what the look actually was, but he knew that it wasn't pity, and in his books that was pretty important. To him, it meant that Mori wasn't making an effort because he felt sorry for the young wizard. There was every chance he was mistaken, but he'd seen pity a lot and seen what it could make people do around him.

For the second time, Mori reached out and ruffled Harry's hair before he started walking the last few steps to the door. A small sigh, not as dejected as the one from less than half a minute before, escaped Harry before he continued on his own way home.

* * *

By the end of Friday, the situation with Kanazuki Reiko had ended (or, at least, it was decided that she and Hani could be friends even if she did like to do creepy curses that Hani couldn't understand), and on Wednesday of the following week Harry could be found eating some toast, wondering if he should bother making breakfast for Sirius or not. He hadn't gotten in until late, so he likely wouldn't even be awake until noon, but Harry had a good half hour until he had to leave to catch his train to school – unless he felt like apparating near Ourin again and walking. He was rather bored.

Then the shouting started downstairs and he felt that he could give in to curiosity. When he found a very distressed looking Sonoda Isao (better known as Misuzu) being shouted at by an exceedingly vulgar girl wearing too much make-up, Harry could do little more than stare and blink owlishly.

"Haruhi-san," he asked, casting a glance at the girl. "Why is that girl mauling Misuzu-chi?"

"She's his daughter," was the only explanation he got before Misuzu suddenly tackled the two people who actually lived in the small flat, asking for help. Harry continued staring from where he leaned against the door frame.

"So... Misuzu-chi, any way I can be of help?" He really was bored, and slightly anticipating the approaching vacation.

Sirius' house had been finished on Sunday, and they would be spending the vacation deciding first how to decorate the place in general, and then actually buying things. Harry's house had been finished for going on two weeks, so he would be working on furnishing it in secret throughout the break as well since, technically speaking, no one but him, the goblins in charge of his accounts, and the construction company knew he even was having a house made separate from Sirius' home near Aoyama (well, the prominent authorities knew as well, but they weren't going to rat him out either). Until Friday, though, he was still focusing on school and the pre-vacation exams, which were boring.

Misuzu looked shocked – and then happy – to see him and quickly explained that the girl – Mei – was his daughter who was visiting for the summer (then she started yelling about how she didn't want to be there, with more expletives than were strictly necessary) and how he needed Haruhi and Ranka's help since she refused to stay with him. Harry was faintly amused and a bit confused, but he nodded along anyway. More of Mei's swearing followed, and Harry couldn't hold back a comment.

"The Hosts are going to _love_ her, Haruhi-san," he grinned a bit. "Can you imagine Tamaki-senpai's reaction to her colorful language?" The thought made him laugh slightly. Tamaki would probably have an aneurism at the sound of the girl swearing up a storm. In fact, he was fairly certain he'd never heard any of the Hosts – or even anyone from Ouran in general – swear, but Mei seemed fluent in curse words.

"What's that supposed to mean you little –" Mei started railing on him, and Harry tried not to laugh. She certainly was scary, but... well, she was wearing far too much make-up, something that made her intimidation tactics a bit less effective. Though considering she was ever-so-slightly shorter than him, he found the effort rather valiant. Still, she had nothing on Snape and Voldemort.

"Mei-san, there's no reason to get all worked up," Harry held his hands up in his defense. Why was this so much fun? Maybe he was just in a good mood again. "I only meant that one of Haruhi-san's friends has delicate ears. I suggest that, should you meet him, you tone down the vulgarity a bit. You are mad, and understandably so, I suppose, but hasn't it already been decided that you are not staying with your father during the vacation? Haruhi-san and her father are very kind people, so I doubt there's any reason for you to be mad anymore."

Somehow he'd gone quickly from condescending to comforting, but it worked as the girl didn't shout after that. She just scowled at him and shoved past him through the door. Harry glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Almost time to catch the train," he shrugged and turned about to leave, waving good-bye to the two men and one girl who were in the apartment.

* * *

The summer vacation passed in a blur. Harry knew at least vaguely that the Hosts and Haruhi were entertaining Mei and helping out at Misuzu's pension, though he really didn't see much of them. He and Sirius spent longer than expected deciding what the various rooms in his house would generally look like, picking out guest rooms, studies, lounges, and figuring out which green houses would house mundane and magical plants. Harry rarely had time to pop by his own house – a fairly sizeable manor which, he had decided, would at least _seem_ muggle on the outside – and by the time he'd really had any time to relax, they had barely found anything for Sirius' home. Harry, not being as picky and knowing he could transfigure something if he felt like it – even if it did require he get text book tips – had an easier time of it.

That first day of relaxation was actually Sirius' fault. Although Harry had managed to do his usual flying on Saturdays, they had been enormously busy, and the only time Sirius got to spend with Ranka was when he dragged the (slightly) older man with them to a furniture shop on his day off. It wasn't exactly fun, so Sirius decided that the summer festival in their neighborhood would be a good time for a date. The fact that it was taking place on their two-month anniversary made it all the better, though the yukata shopping the day before had Harry rather annoyed. Not that they had gone overboard, per se, but Harry felt out of place at the festival. His outfit was of noticeably higher quality, and the appreciative (jealous) looks he got made him squirm. The black fabric was hemmed and tied in a green identical to his eyes with a pattern of green and white dragons weaving symbols (which were actually Runes of protection) drew eyes that made him feel nervous.

The fact that Sirius and Ranka had ditched him (they were going on a date, after all; he'd just hoped they would wait until he saw Haruhi and Mei before they did so) didn't make him feel any less so. He couldn't even hide behind his glasses because they had been broken again, barely more than a month after he bought them, by a clumsy sales clerk. The universe seemed to be conspiring against him.

With a small sigh, Harry started walking, wondering how anyone could find tabi comfortable (the sensation of having something between his toes was so weird). It really was a nice festival, and he realized with a certain amount of surprise that it really did resemble the attraction that class 2-A had used for the school festival in July. It was probably Kyouya who had run the research on that one, he realized. Tamaki would have made it far too... romanticized.

_I really should just head home_, he thought dejectedly. The festival area covered too much ground for him to feasibly run into the girls, and aside from Sirius and Ranka, Haruhi was the only person he actually knew with any degree of familiarity who would be there. People usually went to things like this with friends, family, or a significant other. Seeing someone alone at a festival was just sort of sad.

It wasn't until he found a booth selling Ramune (2) that he finally saw someone he knew. In fact, he saw a lot of someones he knew, just not the someones he had expected to find. The entire Host Club – minus Haruhi – were clustered together in front of a gold fishing booth with Kasanoda and a few of Kasanoda's "brothers" (the one Harry had met, Tetsuya he thought the boy's name was, being one of them). Smiling slightly, Harry bought a good number more of the sodas than he had originally intended and made his way over.

"Enjoying the festival?" He asked calmly as he approached. He noted that Kasanoda was looking downhearted and his "brothers" seemed to be trying to comfort him. Thirteen heads swiveled to look at Harry simultaneously, some looking less surprised than others.

"Harry-chan! I thought you were busy all summer!" Hani was looking up at him happily, clutching Usa-chan tightly to his chest.

"I am," it was true, he was swamped. His mornings were spent cooking and working on business details, his day was for shopping for Sirius' new home (discretely ordering things for his own house as well), and in the evening he would make dinner and do homework while Sirius did... well, whatever it was that Sirius did. "Sirius and Ranka-san are on a date somewhere in all this mess, and Sirius insisted that I should check out the festival as well. Tamaki-senpai, Kyouya-senpai, your class did a much better job on its attraction for the school festival than I had thought."

"Our research was detailed," Kyouya nodded slightly to Harry at the back-handed compliment, looking completely at ease in the crowd of "commoners". Then again, Kyouya looked at ease no matter where he was.

"What's in your bag?" Hani asked, pulling back the lip of it with one finger as he peeked in. Harry sent him a smile – how an eighteen year old could be precocious was beyond him, but it was the adjective he could find to describe the moment – and opened the bag properly, allowing the smaller boy (at least he was taller than _someone_) take out a bottle of red soda with a pink label proclaiming "Ramune" in katakana with little cartoon strawberries on it. "This is a weird bottle for soda."

"It's good soda, though," Harry grinned. "You all can have some if you like. You have to push the marble in first." Of course, the idea of having a marble in a soda bottle seemed quite a marvel to the Hosts, who all grabbed one, and Harry gestured for Tetsuya to take some for the little Kasanoda-gumi cluster. While Tamaki gushed over the marvels of "commoner ingenuity" in a loud voice that drew stares from the passing crowds – many seemed to wonder if it was some sort of half-assed advertisement to hit one of the refreshment booths – Harry ended up having to help everyone actually open them. "It's not that hard," he sighed as he had to explain it for the fourth time while helping the twins. "You pick up the plastic thingy, turn it upside down over the marble, and _push_ on it. It takes all of five seconds."

It was amazing how bad they could actually be at doing things like this. There were directions printed on the wrapper! He had ended up opening Kyouya's for a "demonstration" that was really just Kyouya being too lazy to do it on his own and giving an excuse to not have to open his own drink, then he had to tell Tamaki how to do it twice before growing exasperated and doing it himself, and now the twins seemed just as hopeless. At least Kasanoda's group seemed to have a grasp on it, though they seemed to be gravitating away from the Hosts, whether from embarrassment or because they just didn't want to be around them was anyone's guess.

"I did it, Harry-chan!" Hani was looking quite proud of himself as he showed his bottle of soda was, in fact, open with the marble relaxing in the small divot around two-thirds of the way up the bottle. "Takashi needs help too, though."

Actually, Mori had been the one Harry expected to not need help, but he figured that the most reliable of the Hosts could have his failings. Still, how Haruhi could stand to be around them _all the time_ was beyond him, especially when Tamaki took them to have a commoner binge and started fawning over everything. The fact that he was really trying instead of just being lazy helped Harry feel less exasperated, so he didn't really mind.

"You just need to push a bit harder, senpai," Harry chuckled. "If you break it I can just give you another, and the bottle isn't as fragile as it looks." Mori sent a skeptical glance in return and Harry scoffed. "Just look." Harry rolled his eyes slightly heavenward and pressed his thumb down on Mori's own, allowing the marble to fall. "See? No big deal." Mori nodded, took a drink from the bottle (he had lychee berry) and suddenly the group was moving, Hani grabbing Harry's unoccupied hand to drag him along. He hadn't even gotten to open a drink for himself.

It was half an hour later, and Tamaki was playing a ring toss game like one of the ones that had been set up at the festival (he wanted to get a giant stuffed penguin (3) for Haruhi). Harry was taking a sip from his soda – melon – and talking with Hikaru and Kaoru who were commenting on his yukata.

"It's very showy for you," they commented blithely. "Not that we've seen you out of uniform much or anything, but you usually wear some pretty plain stuff. It's a nice cut for you, though it could be taken in a bit."

"I doubt if I'll wear it again," Harry rolled his eyes. "And Sirius picked it out. I _did_ want to have something more plain, but he vetoed all of my decisions and this was the least... _ornate_ thing that he picked out for me. The others were a lot more expensive looking and far too intricate for my tastes. Seriously, genuine gold thread? I'm lucky he let me get away with this one at all."

"I guess, but –" Kaoru cut himself off as he looked at the crowd, which was suddenly parting with whispers all around. "What's up with that?"

Harry really wished he wasn't such a Gryffindor, but he was and did the typical Gryffindoric thing. He followed the twins and pushed to the front of the crowd, thinking it was just a parade. He realized just how stupid a move that was when he saw what was actually happening, especially when he noticed that all of the crowd, excepting the Hosts who had moved after him and the twins, had backed off.

Lucius Malfoy was walking through the empty portion of the street with two others whom Harry recognized as Walden MacNair – the man who executed magical creatures for the Ministry – and Mabon Nott (4) – the father of Theodore Nott who was a Slytherin in Harry's year at Hogwarts – all of whom were convicted Death Eaters and _should_ have been in Azkaban.

And they were all heading straight for Harry who couldn't escape without leaving several hundred muggles defenseless against a threat they had no knowledge of (though Mori and Hani could actually probably take all three out if the wizards weren't quick to draw their wands). Considering the guilt-factor and Harry's hero-complex, he was not going to let that happen, and so he stood his ground, stepping slightly ahead of the Hosts to keep himself between the murderers, rapists, etc and their innocent, unknowledgeable selves.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry scowled keeping his eyes pinned to the blond man and his question in English. The language was popular in Japan, and all the Hosts knew it to an extent, but hopefully... well, he didn't know what he was hoping, just that they were smart enough to not step in. They may be in public, but he wouldn't put it past the Lord of House Malfoy to _do_ something to them.

Lucius only smiled. "My, my Mr. Potter. What... _interesting_ company you keep," his eyes raked along behind the younger wizard, eyeing the muggles with disdain. "I always knew you were a muggle-lover, just like your father and _dog_ of a godfather, but I didn't think you would actually stoop so low."

"You didn't answer my question," Harry's scowl deepened as he barked at his elder. "What are you doing in Japan? What are you doing out of Azkaban?"

"So _demanding_, aren't you Potter," he let out a dignified snort, if a snort could be classified as such. "You certainly haven't hidden your presence. Your portkeys from and to here in June were monitored, you've even been in the newspapers. It's a wonder your friends haven't... but, then, all of your supposed _real_ friends are dead now, aren't they? What with the young Weasels' betrayal, I daresay the only one you had left was that mudblood but... well, her screams were _delicious_."

Harry would have snapped just then, pulled his wand from his sleeve and cast whatever he could – the cruciatus came to mind – not minding about the statute of secrecy (he could spare a more than a few galleons after all) or the life sentence that the action would carry (if _Malfoy_ could get out after everything he'd been convicted for... well Harry had a lot more leverage, reason, and public support). Even though he knew, intellectually, that the bit about Hermione's screams was a bluff, he would have done it. He would have, had a hand not wrapped around his forearm as he went to reach for his arm and moved to go into a stance to fling himself forward and perhaps kill the blond.

Mori stepped forward.

"Senpai, get back," Harry snarled when the older boy's hand released him, tugging on the black sleeve. "Nothing of this concerns any of you." It was a lie. They were present, Malfoy knew they existed and that Harry knew them, probably cared for them and vice versa. Mori didn't move. "Senpai, _please_ don't interfere." If he didn't name names, it would take longer for Malfoy to find their names, their families, and he could do _something_, couldn't he?

Steel gray met blazing green for only a moment before Mori stepped back, though not by much, and Harry faced a smirking Malfoy once more. In that moment, Harry wished that Mori wasn't so protective of everyone, even people he didn't know, because it would only add fuel to the fire when the Death Eaters made their move. He'd damned himself for the same character trait often enough.

"Lord Malfoy, Lord Nott, McNair," Harry's gaze flicked to each, fighting his every inclination though he kept his face blank. To anyone who knew body language very well, he probably looked tense. His hands were fisted in the loose pants of his outfit, shoulders squared and jaw gripped tight. All of these wee basic signs of aggression, he knew, but he could control himself. "I must request that you leave." Even though the words were civil, his tone was outright vicious as he spoke through gritted teeth. "The Japanese Aurors are much more efficient and _far_ less corrupt than those in Britain. Whatever you did to get out of Azkaban won't work here."

Lucius Malfoy knew he had the upper hand, regardless of Harry's threat and tilted his head, smirking. "As you wish, _Harry_, though I was just starting to have some fun... still, I suppose you and your _friends_ can entertain me another day. Draco sends his regards and hopes to see you soon. Oh, and say hello to my _dear_ cousin-in-law for me, won't you?" He waved his hand in an obvious gesture of retreat and took his muscle with him. By the time they were out of sight, Harry was pale and shaking.

"Who were they?"

Harry didn't know who asked the question, but he answered it anyway. "Lord Lucius Malfoy of Wiltshire, Lord Mabon Nott of Wrexham, and Walden MacNair. Murderers, rapists, master torturers, the whole shebang. They're supposed to be serving life sentences, but... well, you just saw them and they definitely aren't in prison." He let out a hollow laugh and hung his head. He had known that Malfoy was in Japan, had hoped it was just a coincidence, a one-time sighting and he would be behind bars again. Obviously, this was not the case. "They're part of the terrorist group that attacked the train station last year."

When Harry returned to the flat that night, he didn't sleep a wink, too busy thinking about what had gone wrong. He never had tried to hide his presence. Such attempts would only highlight it, really, so he hadn't stopped anything from happening or his records from being seen. But they really had been found.

_The question is_, Harry thought with a forlorn sigh sometime around midnight as he stared at the waxing crescent moon far above him, _is it more dangerous now for me to stay and protect them, keeping them as prominent targets, or to run away and leave them without a clue or any shield against Malfoy?_

He thought long and hard into the night, but when the sun rose above the horizon, he had no more of an idea than he started with, only the knowledge that both options had disastrous potential.

**Author's Note: Did you seriously think that I forgot about Harry seeing Lucius in August, or that it wouldn't have an impact on the story? Seriously, I may be a poke-their-brains person in my writing, but I also have a plot, thank you very much! Muhaha. Now whatever could Ickle Harry-kins be thinking?**

**Quoted chapter 41 of the manga a bit in this one. I really am just brushing over the summer-vacation thing, but I can't imagine furniture shopping is very fun (unless you go to IKEA, but...) so it doesn't require detailing, and that (plus homework and the small bit of business he does on a regular basis) is about all he would do aside from a few rare occasions.**

(1) Hani calls Nekozawa "Neko-chan" in chapter 57 of the manga, page 5. This bit was also edited because before I had Hani calling "Neko-kun" because I wasn't sure if he would use "-chan" for the guy who so routinely freaks them all out.

(2) These are amazing; soda bottles that have a marble in them. It doesn't affect the taste, but I collect the bottles and the sodas are really good.

(3) In chapter 43 of the manga – this scene would take place not long after the end of 44 – the Hosts took Mei to the zoo where they saw a penguin and everyone commented that it looked like Haruhi.

(4) Theodore means Divine Gift while Mabon means Divine Son. It seemed appropriate correlation for the magical world.


	14. Chapter 14

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

**Pre-Note: This chapter is mostly Harry brooding and there isn't a lot of dialogue. Just so you know.**

Chapter 14

Even a week after the encounter with the Death Eaters saw Harry without further insight into his situation. Malfoy, Nott, and MacNair (and, most likely, any other Death Eaters that they were working with) knew that Harry was in Japan, likely the neighborhood he lived in, and there was a fair chance they were also aware that he attended Ouran. He had never hidden any of this. It would have been pointless, suspicious, and a stupid move to begin with because hiding would mean he had something to hide from, and people would notice. So he hadn't hidden, but he hadn't been obvious either.

He'd still been found, though, and others were going to pay for his mistakes, just like Cedric. The Death Eaters _knew_ he was associating in some way with a group of muggles. Hopefully, Malfoy didn't know if they were friends, acquaintances, or people who just so happened to have been with him at the festival, but they had to know that there was something. They had seen the way that one of the Hosts – a nameless, faceless muggle so far as the Death Eaters were concerned – had stepped up to Harry's side and held him back from fighting. They couldn't have missed the way that Harry in return had forced himself to calm down and protected them.

There would be no denying those facts. Malfoy was probably the smartest of the three, followed by Nott and then MacNair, but it had been obvious that the latter two were really just Malfoy's muscle for whatever this was. They were out for revenge against the one who had inadvertently defeated their Lord twice over without doing so much as say "_Expelliarmus_". If they could bomb a train station and kill hundreds of muggles, witches, and wizards alike, they would have no compunctions with killing those that Harry had any sort of connection with for sport.

It was terrifying, and it was wrong, and Harry had no idea what to do. He could cut ties and leave them defenseless, perhaps making them less of a target (but not likely), or he could stay and protect them, increasing the size of the target. Both options left far too much to be desired.

When he'd been in St. Mungo's after his coma and before his escape to Gringotts, Dumbledore had come to speak to Harry. This had been not long before Harry had heard him talking to Ron and Ginny, the same day in fact, and the caring grandfather act had been turned to full. The Boy-Who-Lived was in emotional pain and the old man had the gall to tell him that the pain from Hermione's death made him human. It didn't matter and it wasn't true. Remus wasn't human by the Ministry's standards, nor were Hagrid, Buckbeak, Firenze, or any other number of sentient beings that Harry had met, and they all felt compassion, pain, everything.

_I don't want to be a Being anymore_, Harry thought with a sigh as he slowly stirred the stir-fry in front of him. _Then maybe I can stop caring, or at least think straight on the matter_.

It was the last day of vacation, the twenty-fifth of October. Things had been fairly calm since the "meeting" with the three Death Eaters (so long as one counted Harry and Sirius jumping at shadows to be "calm"). Harry and Sirius did more shopping – Sirius' house might be fully furnished by Christmas – and neither had received further threats.

On Friday, Harry had been invited to go to the Hitachiin Estate and had since Sirius was looking at froofy shops for no apparent reason (unless one considered making Harry go have fun a reason), and he had. The twins' mother, Yuzuha, had been as friendly and not-overbearing as the last time they had met, though she did have him model a few of the outfits she had made for boys with darker hair since "her precious sons were far too fair". He had also bought (yet another) new pair glasses afterward, though Yuzuha had seemed ecstatic that he had apparently taken her advice to wear contacts that he didn't actually remember.

Mostly, he had considered that day a miracle in that the twins didn't bother him for details on the encounter with the Death Eaters. But, then, they might have just been doing it for Haruhi; Harry couldn't imagine them wanting to expose her to a story about murderers, rapists, etc.

No, Sunday was a special day, in that Harry had spent just about the entire day cooking instead of shopping or doing anything else. He didn't much like shopping, but he felt it might have been more fun than what was going to happen that evening anyway.

Sirius had invited people to dinner, muggles in fact. Nine of them. These nine were Sirius' boyfriend of over two months, said boyfriend's daughter, said boyfriend's daughter's six club mates from school, and one ornery girl with a love for making clothes. The small apartment (Sirius seemed to have forgotten that it would shrink to a size that had been known to give his godson panic attacks) was going to be full to the brim with the Hosts, Ranka, and Mei, never mind the two people who actually lived there.

"Idiot," Harry murmured. He then placed a stasis charm on the stir-fry, just the same as he had on everything else he'd made, which was a lot. Eleven people, especially when seven of them were teenaged boys, could eat quite a bit. Considering nine of them were men and Haruhi was involved (she didn't eat a lot, per se, but she didn't have the compunction many girls possessed regarding eating in public), the sheer quantity of food Harry had to prepare was nothing short of a miniature feast, and he'd had to take into account – after several phone calls – what everyone liked, didn't like, was allergic to, couldn't stand the smell of, and had never even _heard_ of.

On the bright side, he had to chance to attempt to cook some traditional Japanese dishes. It was likely that after they left the apartment Harry would never have to cook again, and it wasn't something he particularly enjoyed (though he had come to, to an extent), but it was still interesting and he was fairly certain he'd gotten everything right. Trying to make the food _look_ a certain way kind of odd as well, but it generally did.

When Sirius left his room, changed into some more casual clothes and ready for when people would be arriving in a bit over half an hour, Harry told him to get ice cream before retreating to the bathroom for a shower. The rising steam of the grease was something he _needed_ to get off of him; it felt disgusting, far more that being sweaty after a day of flying or anything similar.

Sirius, however, decided that heading out could wait a moment while he looked over everything Harry had made over the course of the day and was astounded. All of the traditional dishes looked pretty much how the pictures did and everything that was more the usual repertoire smelled just right, as they always did. The sheer amount of desserts that were residing in the fridge and freezer would have astounded him had he not seen how many of the sweet treats the smallest of Harry's friends could ingest when they went to the Italian restaurant in August.

"We're going to have an insane amount of leftovers," the animagus chuckled as he snuck a chocolate biscuit from the usual cookie jar. Why on earth would he even want ice cream with so many desserts available? Still, he figured he ought to go... just when he was going to grab his coat so he could take a walk down to the market – it was a busy time of day, so apparating was impractical – when there was a knock on the door.

Considering guests weren't meant to arrive for a good half hour yet, this could be considered a surprise. And Harry was in the shower... he quickly formulated a Sirius-proof plan (because fool-proof wasn't strong enough) and answered the door, sticking his head around.

The tallest of the Host Club – he remembered that the boy was named "Takashi" but no one called him that – was standing in front of the door, looking slightly uncomfortable in his designer casual clothes. Sirius guessed it was that he _knew_ he was early.

"Oh! You're early," Sirius said happily, careful to keep his body behind the door to give the illusion that he wasn't appropriately dressed yet. "Can you give me a minute? I'll let you in in just a moment." The door was shut before the silent boy could do more than blink and Sirius skedaddled to the bathroom.

When the door opened, Harry stuck his head around the shower curtain to send an annoyed glance at his guardian. "Sirius, I'm in here, you know," he grumbled as the wave of cold air hit him through his cloud of steam.

"One of your friends from school is here early; I'm letting him in," Sirius said quickly. Harry noted that he looked a bit nervous. "I really should have warded this place separately, but... well, anyway, I'll grab you a calming draught to take when I let him in, okay? Half a phial should keep you until you're done in here, right?"

Harry had paled as soon as Sirius had started, which didn't work very well considering his was flushed from the shower (considering he'd only been in for maybe five minutes and the room was brimming with steam, it was a very hot shower to begin with). Someone was early and he was going to be in the bathroom when it shrunk. It had been extended to be larger than the entire flat because there wasn't a window, and now it would be smaller than his bedroom _and_ windowless. Even Sirius, who really only reacted to small spaces if it was also cold, had a hard time not freaking out in there, and that was saying something.

"I... yeah," Harry nodded, shaking himself out of his little space-out. "I might take a bit more if it isn't enough, but I promise not to dose myself for more than a half-hour. I'll be normal by the time everyone is here." He saw the dark blurry form of Sirius traverse the mists (in other words, he entered the bathroom) and heard the clack of the medicine cabinet opening before a potion was pulled out and slipped into Harry's waiting hand. He downed it quickly. "Thanks Sirius." The door slid shut.

Twelve seconds later, Harry was all too aware of how close the walls were. Not that he hadn't been before, but now he could actually reach beyond the shower curtain and touch the edge of the bathroom door. It wasn't something he wanted to think about, so he finished his shower in record time and was silently cursing himself as he stepped out. He really ought to just start bringing his clothes into the bathroom with him.

Completely dry and with a bundle of dirty clothes under one arm and a towel around his waist, Harry peeked out into the main room of the flat. Sirius was sitting on a kitchen stool and eating a chocolate biscuit, looking completely at ease and yammering on about... well, something; Harry wasn't entirely sure what. On one of the small couches sat Mori.

It was surprising, since the silent senior seemed more the type to appear on time, and certainly not without his best friend/cousin. Harry glanced at the wall clock and saw that it was twenty minutes until the time Sirius had given for everyone to come over, meaning that Mori had been about a half hour early which would normally be outside the range of "politely prompt" as Aunt Petunia had called it. Sirius obviously didn't mind though, and so long as Harry could sneak off to his room without being noticed it ought to be fine.

Whether or not he was noticed was not determined, though at the very least he wasn't greeted and didn't have any awkward moments as he padded quietly around the corner to his room where he changed hurriedly into jeans and a t-shirt. He was back in the main room hardly two minutes later and had to restrain himself from running outside. The walls were all too close and they had _moved_ and he could barely see the sky and...

He took a calming breath and smiled. "Good afternoon, Mori-senpai. We weren't expecting anyone so early," he stepped further into the room, away from the walls – _they were _far _too close_ – and looked the older boy in the eye as he turned around from his seat on the couch. "Would you like some tea? We've mostly got the more common British teas, but Sirius stocked up on some traditional ones as well."

Half a moment's pause went by before Mori gave his usual affirmative and Harry quickly gravitated to the cupboard where the teas were kept and set a pot to boil. He didn't like tea overly much, but there were some. He was more of a mint tea kind of person when he had any, and Sirius liked Earl Gray, but both had come to appreciate a few of the Japanese blends.

"Sirius can be a bit of an airhead at times; he probably didn't think to offer anything beyond cookies," Harry taunted playfully. It was just a distraction to keep his mind off of the _walls and they were closing in and he could feel them just inches away from his skin and how could anyone stand it and_ – but he kept his cool and pulled down the canisters of tea. "By the way, did you get the ice cream like I asked, Sirius?"

"Wha- erm, no," Harry heard him fidgeting just a few feet away. He could he stand having the walls so close? The younger wizard shuddered imperceptibly. "I saw you made a lot of desserts already. Why do you need ice cream on top of all that?"

"Ice cream pie (1)," Harry said easily. There were no further protests as Sirius grabbed his coat and ran out the door to buy ice cream. For a moment, Harry wondered if he should have gone since he not only knew what kind to get, but he had to _get away from the walls because they were ghosting touches and he didn't know how long he could take it and the sky was so far away and_ – "What kind of tea would you like, senpai? We've got mint, Earl Gray, green, Red Bush, oolong... seems we've also got some sort of white tea." (2)

"Aa," Harry took that to mean the white and set to preparing it, using a subtle heating charm on the water to speed things along. He was too close to a wall, even if that wall had a window because it wasn't helping and everything was too close. How was he going to make it through the night with the flat so small and packed with people?

With the tea tray set on the low coffee table in front of the couch, Harry poured a cup for the silent senior. "I'm going to go outside for a moment; you don't mind, do you?" Apparently Mori didn't, because he shook his head and took a sip of his tea.

It was cold and it was wet and he could sea the sky and he could almost touch it! Harry collapsed against the railing in front of his apartment, breathing the scent of fresh air deeply into his lungs and expelling it quickly. No more walls, no more stuffy air, and he could see the sky. Even with the calming draught, he'd felt imprisoned in the closed walls, with only the small window that felt as if it was only the size of a postage stamp to reassure him that the sky even existed. It felt horrible and the light breeze against his skin felt wonderful.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket and sent a quick text message to tell Sirius was kind of ice cream he needed (Sirius had a liking for cookie dough, and that wouldn't work with the pies), relishing the feeling of being outdoors for another minute before he resigned himself to returning to the cramped apartment that had far too much food in it.

At fifteen minutes until the time they were meant to start, a limousine pulled out front and had Hani skipping out happily with Usa-chan in tow.

At twelve minutes 'til, Sirius returned with Ranka and Haruhi and the ice cream.

At ten minutes 'til, Tamaki appeared and happily glomped his "daughter".

At the exact time stated, Kyouya made his way into the flat.

Five minutes late, the twins made their way in.

Ten minutes later found Harry out on the porch again, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. It wasn't as bad as he had thought; he didn't have flashbacks to the cupboard because of the constant reminder of people being with him, but it was all still too cramped and even if he couldn't feel the walls he could feel the _people_ all too close and too warm and too loud... It was far too much and he felt he had to get out, if only for a moment.

Everyone liked the food, pretty much gorged themselves really, and it was fun.

By the end of the evening, Harry had found the answer to the question he'd been asking himself for the past week and all the while he damned himself for finding it.

* * *

By the end of the first week back, Harry was damning himself even more, though he counted his blessings that the next day, Halloween, was a Saturday. Tamaki had gotten it into his head to start a sports festival, and by luck of the draw – rather, un-luck of his last name – Harry found himself on the blond's team. In all honesty, he would have preferred to be on the opposing side and had even offered to swap with Kaoru (the teams alternated by last name, so Kaoru and Hikaru were on opposite sides) but he had declined, and no one else seemed inclined to care which side they were on, just that they were on one.

Harry had told them to sign him on for a couple of running events and went out with the rest of the team to run laps... fifty of them around a .5 kilometer track. Apparently the red team's trainer – Hani – had the same idea as white's – Mori – so both teams had to run twenty-five kilometers under the watchful eyes of the Hosts. Harry had managed to go on longer than most, and was practically sprinting most of them time since when he ran before it had been "as far and as fast as possible before they catch him/he's late for class because Dudley/Snape will skin him alive."

The weekend wasn't exactly going to be a break since Mori had pretty much ordered everyone to come in and work in the mornings both days, but at least Harry would have some time alone and away from them.

He was going to keep a watchful distance. If Harry abandoned them, then there was a chance that the Death Eaters could give up, but there was just as much chance, if not a great deal more, that they would not. So he was going to protect them without anyone knowing he even associated with them on even the most basic of levels.

He felt like a coward.

"Nothing else for it," Harry murmured when he had changed back into his regular clothes after running... and running... and running until he felt his legs turn into noodles. Maybe if he weren't so damn honorable, he would have used potions or magic to help relax his muscles, but he had decided that the only potions he could take until after the festival was over would be if he severely injured himself and the swallow of wit-sharpening before French class (because that was really the only way he would ever understand such a flowery language with its unnecessary vowels and superfluous X's). It was unsportsmanlike to do anything else.

Harry apparated easily from the locker room – now empty – to an apparition point in Tokyo and went shopping. He was really coming to hate it. At first it had been okay, since he'd never _really_ been shopping for anything beyond school supplies, but his quest for furniture and to have his house ready as soon as possible was exhausting. Every room was painted and he'd furnished a lot of the rooms that he would be habitating – he wasn't obsessed with making every single room unique like Sirius was – so it wouldn't be long before he was out of Sirius' hair.

The fact that it brought the chances of the Hosts kidnapping him down to nil was also a plus and made him feel all the more cowardly. He'd basically stalked them all home and set up alert spells around the perimeters that would tell him if someone with a Dark Mark came, and considering how bad he was with wards it had been difficult... and he was planning on _hiding_ from a bunch of muggles when he hadn't hid from the wizards looking for him in the first place.

The hat had wanted him in Slytherin, he supposed, but somehow he felt that being a coward and hiding, no matter how noble his intentions, was just stupid. And just when he'd been admitting to himself that the Hosts made alright friends, too.

On the bright side, this tactic would distance him from Mori. On the not-so-bright side, it would distance him from Mori. An unrequited crush was not something that he was terribly keen on dealing with, especially when he put into consideration that he intended to die either old and alone after a life of focusing solely on work or else from stress-induced insanity, still alone and still focused only on work. Admittedly, a requited crush would make his plans much more difficult.

On Halloween, Harry reported for training as morose as could be expected given what day it was. He was wearing all black, same as he had two months before, when he was showing his mourning for Hermione and everyone else who died at King's Cross, but not the uniform. He felt like a ponce, really. But it was the anniversary of his parents' death; nothing good ever happened on Halloween. Or, rather, something bad always did, and he was on edge, jumping at shadows (not that he'd stopped after Malfoy's threat two weeks prior) and wanting nothing more than to be anywhere else, like at Sirius' property flying.

He wondered if people went trick or treating in Japan and remembered on the fake Halloween earlier in the year when the twins had done so to Haruhi. He squashed the thought, though. His bag had sweets in it anyway, just in case, and a few retaliatory pranks for the same reason.

Upon his arrival at the apparition point, already dressed in the team uniform of a black and red track suit, Harry ran. It was over one kilometer – measuring out a full mile actually – between the apparition point and Ouran High School, so when Harry arrived at the track just as the rest of the participants were assembling (both white and red were running laps in the morning) he was suitably warmed up. He lined up easily with the others of the running-event group for red, and then he ran more.

It felt like something had slipped his mind, or that his mind was slipping. As he kept to a flat out sprint, Harry couldn't really think, his body acting and reacting of its own accord. Every movement burned, every step prickled and turned his knees to jelly. But he kept taking another leap, another step. It was almost as if he'd taken a calming potion and he didn't have to be worried about anything as he continued lap after lap around the field. It felt... well, it hurt, but mentally it was like his was flying, only... not.

If that made any sense, which he was fairly sure it didn't, then whoever it made sense to was either a genius or had to get their heads checked. Harry wondered if maybe _he_ should get his head checked, considering he'd thought it in the first place. As a quasi-abused child and witness to a murder, never mind the fact that he was tortured, he was sure that he could at least do with a psyche evaluation...

In that lapse of concentration from the simple sensations of running away from everything, his legs that had become noodles in the innumerable laps collapsed under him. Harry's stomach fought against him, eager to upchuck the light breakfast he had had at least an hour before he even arrived, but he fought back just as hard to keep it down. He felt light headed, overheated, and like someone had tossed him into a meat grinder.

Maybe running that much wasn't such a good idea. He swallowed thickly, fighting the burning that was trying to claw out his throat, fingers clenched on the turf below him as he struggled to not fall flat on his face. How had he not noticed that his legs were screaming obscenities at him like this? The cruciatus was worse, but Merlin! His body was committing a mutiny.

Feet thundered in his direction, many of them stopping while others continued on to pass his collapsed form by. A few sets of hands lifted him up and dragged Harry off of the field, careful to lay him on his back in the grass as he gathered his breath. He noted, while staring up at the all-encompassing blue sky, that his glasses were slightly crooked, though his swimming vision didn't exactly help him with the deduction.

"I think you overdid it, Harry-chan," A mess of blond carrying a pink blob was leaning over him curiously. "You must have been running for over half an hour!" Had it been that long? _How_ had it been that long? He'd hardly... but sweet Circe, his legs were killing him! Maybe he should reconsider the muscle relaxant potions or _something_ because the sheer amount of lactic acid made him feel like all his nerve endings had had the layer of fat burned away and were being pinched by an army fire crabs. Or blasted by Skrewts. "Takashi, how many laps did he do?"

"Too many," Mori answered in his usual monotone. Harry was of the opinion that this had already been established by his collapse. Bile threatened to rise again, but he swallowed, closing his eyes tightly. He couldn't see the sky, but it was right there, and the light was hurting... he let out a sort of groaning sigh (if such a sound exists) and tried to move a little. He wasn't exactly an expert, but not moving after doing something like that was going to wreak havoc on him later. "Don't move."

"Hn..." Harry groaned, ignoring the calm voice and forced his arms under himself so he could sit, at least a little. His balance was horrible, maybe worse than when he'd been hit with the roofing tile, but he could move, and he _would_ move, and the very least he could do was massage his legs. "'M fine."

It was an obvious lie, but neither of the third years pressed it, nor did either of them leave his side. Harry peeked an eyes open, noting that he must be facing overhead since the sun wasn't in his eyes and made a brief "o" shape with his mouth. Whoever had dragged him over – he'd have to find out and thank them since he didn't fancy getting trampled on – had placed him on the grass by the benches where Hani and Mori supervised the training.

He decided that whatever this was, it wasn't too bad, all things considered. Even with the pain lancing up his legs as he kneaded the muscles roughly was a blessing. He hadn't thought of his current situation since he arrived.

When he left, after using one of the muggle-friendly pranks that Fred and George had invented on a certain other pair of red haired twins he knew (a hair gel that acts as a temporary dye for their least favorite color – Kaoru had mauve and Hikaru's was some weird barf-green), he decided that it could have been far worse... but there was no way in hell he was getting up to answer the door for any trick-or-treaters.

It seemed that, for once, Halloween was going to go by without any ominous happenings.

* * *

Harry decided the later that he really shouldn't try to jinx these things. Sirius arrived home half an hour to midnight with a dazed look in his eyes and covered in soot. He'd been at a Halloween party of some sort – Harry was underage and thus not invited and Ranka had work, so Sirius had gone alone – that was supposed to keep him out until at least two in the morning, but obviously it hadn't happened.

"Sirius!" Harry vaulted off the couch on shaky legs that screamed at even the slightest of movements. He had to catch the older man (which was very difficult considering his weakened state) and dragged him to the couch, handing him a cup of hot chocolate from the pot on the stove. "You look like hell... was it Malfoy?"

"No." How could he actually look like he'd been run over by a flaming hippogriff and still speak? Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but considering Sirius always looked either impeccable or gracefully messy... "We need to get some back issues of the Prophet. It's not just Malfoy and MacNair who broke out or got out or whatever they did. I saw my cousin too."

Harry wracked his brains. Cousin? He'd met Andromeda briefly, and Nymphadora Tonks had visited in Ireland for Christmas, Narcissa hadn't been convicted of anything... "Lestrange? The one who tortured –"

"Yeah. Merlin, she looked exactly like she always did, you know? And her husband was with her. Blew up a department store," he grimaced, running a hand through his hair before downing the chocolaty beverage in one swig and allowed Harry to get him more. "No one was inside, but the fires caught around. It'll be in the news."

Harry led his godfather into his bedroom and laid him down easily. It was like the holiday gods wanted to smite them or something! With a long-suffering sigh, Harry tucked himself in for the night and shuddered as he stared at the brilliant moon that had been full just a few days before.

He wondered just how safe it was to remain in Japan at all.

**Author's Note: Harry is an idiot and he freely acknowledges it; he's just doing what he believes is best, which it's probably not... but anyway! This Halloween scene isn't canonical, obviously, though the sports festival is (chapters 46-49). It's just background to Harry's brooding, and I know he's doing a lot of it this chapter and that his thoughts ran in loops, but he's kind of panicked over Malfoy and the dangers to the Hosts and blah blah blah.**

**Finally recognized his crush too, after half a year of knowing the guy. Then again, Sirius did call him dense, no? I hate how authors write that everything is normal until suddenly "Oh, I must be in love!" and they never hit the stage of it just being a regular crush. I've had Harry hit the lust angle (wet dreams were mentioned), the emotional angle (Mori didn't pity him and Harry felt comfortable around him), and several others as well. I'm sorry if my methods are too subtle or slow, but as I've said once or twice before, this is my first ever romance story and I'm really just stumbling through on this one.**

**Oh, and things start diverging – sort of – from canon Ouran soon-ish... which is kind of a given considering I'm only 15 chapters off from the last chapter that's up on OneManga.**

(1) This is really really really delicious. The "crust" is made out of a mixture of cake batter and frosting whipped together and baked so you basically have a cake at the bottom of the pie pan and then the middle is filled with ice cream and it's AMAZING. Well, I've only had one kind because my mom made it once last summer (chocolate mint... mmmm), but it seriously is the best thing ever to involve ice cream excluding mud pie and mochi... well, maybe it's even better than those.

(2) The following information is from teasource (dot) com: all tea (not counting herbal) comes from the same plant, but different kinds indicate different pickings, degree of aging, etc. White tea is the youngest pick and was once reserved for Chinese royalty. It was only recently made more publicly available. I just typed "kinds of tea" into my google bar, so... yeah. Oh, and Red Bush is a kind of tea my dad likes from South Africa I think (he always calls it by the Welsh name, but I dunno how to spell it... or pronounce it). It's an herbal-type tea from a red bush (who would have guessed?).


	15. Chapter 15

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 15

Chickenpox is the world's way of telling you to shut up and go hide in a corner. Harry was just getting his first lesson on the annoying disease, and lamented that it was so rare among wizarding children (and so benign in those few cases) that no one had bothered making a potion to cure it. He remembered that Dudley had had it when they were seven, but Vernon hadn't wanted to have to pay for medicine for Harry too and stuck him in the shed for the entire time Dudley had been ill. Harry had not caught chickenpox (though they told the school he had because there was no way he was going to go to school when their precious Dinky Diddy-dums was miserable and itchy) and he was regretting it very much.

If he had caught it as a child, he could have whined about how itchy and uncomfortable he was without fear of seeming like a ponce, though not without fear of being cuffed about the head. Having caught it at age sixteen because he had to be an idiot and go visit pediatrics meant that, not only was he stupid for not listening when a parent when she was telling the doctor he was with (Kishimoto again) that the child had chickenpox and had played a game with said child, but he also had no one to complain to in the first place. That had been two days ago.

Sirius had never had chickenpox either, so he couldn't enter the apartment until Harry was better and had sanitized the place. So Harry was stuck in the apartment – _couldn't bloody leave!_ – alone, itchy, not allowed to go to school, but not the sort of sick where he could sleep the next two days away without noticing the passage of time. His teachers were emailing his homework assignments to him, which he'd gotten done before the school day would have been over, and he didn't having anything business-wise to do either. He was bored, alone, and itchy.

Harry glared at his computer screen for a moment before adding another few chairs to his "cart". Internet shopping wasn't much better than doing it in real life, and he couldn't actually check the quality of what he was buying, which was annoying. For the past weeks, he'd been telling himself that he would rather be buying things for his house than training for the sports festival under Mori's watchful eye (he had overworked himself twice more in that time, and Mori had taken to watching him and stopping him after a certain number of barely-noticed laps), but now that it was over and he was lazing about, Harry would rather be running the school track again.

On the bright side (or not, depending on how one looked at it) there had been no Death Eater activity since Halloween. It did make Harry nervous, though.

"At this rate... just another week," he sighed and continued browsing. He couldn't cook because he might contaminate the food – he was subsiding on leftovers for the moment and canned soup – and spending all day reading text books wasn't something he really felt like doing. He wanted to be outside or _something_. Chickenpox was hardly even a real illness! He wasn't coughing or sneezing, there was barely any fever (not even two full degrees above the norm), and he wasn't nauseous... just a little weak and _itchy_.

Sounds of loud chattering caught his ear before a solid rap connected with the door. Naturally, Harry was curious and cautious. Who on earth was going to visit him? It wasn't Sirius for reasons already known, and Death Eaters wouldn't _knock_; they'd blast the door in or else apparate directly in, not be so polite as to _knock_. He set his laptop on the coffee table and stashed his wand into a kitchen drawer before making his way to the door and opening it. The sight that met him was... surprising.

"Hello, Harry-kun!" The Hosts all said happily... well, the twins, and Haruhi said it happily, Hani changed it to 'chan' with double enthusiasm, Kyouya changed it to 'san' with little enthusiasm, Suou dropped the suffix all together, and Mori just sort of nodded from his position behind the group. But it was the thought that counted.

It occurred to Harry that he completely failed at alienating people.

"Sirius said that you had chickenpox," Haruhi explained for no apparent reason. It went unsaid that the animagus was staying in her apartment until Harry was better. "We wanted to see how you're doing."

"Oh... you guys have had chickenpox before, right? I wouldn't want to get you sick..." he trailed off as the group all nodded their assent. "Alright then, er, come in then, I guess." He stepped aside from the door, opening wide and shuddered slightly at the ripple of magic as the rooms constricted before any of the Hosts could see inside. Now the room was small again, and crowded. "Just find yourselves some seats, I can put some tea on." He was already crossing the room, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"You don't have to be a good host, Harry-kun," Haruhi said politely. "I can make the tea, you should be resting."

"I'm not an invalid," Harry sighed, but didn't bother resisting. There was no point in it. Haruhi was as blunt as they came, and stubborn. If she didn't want him making the tea then he wouldn't make the tea. Instead, he pulled some snacks from the fridge and set them out before taking a seat on the floor. He felt decidedly awkward. No one had ever dropped by unexpectedly on him before, and certainly not when he was sick.

"Hey, Harry-kun," the twins spoke in unison in that creepy way they always did. At least it wasn't as head-ache inducing as Fred and George's way at least, and Harry knew he was prone to them given that he was sick, slightly feverish, and in a confined space with noisy teenagers. "Why are you looking up furniture?"

"Sirius' house was finished in September," a half-truth. "He wants the place fully furnished before we move, and I'm bored to death. The class work the teachers sent me went by too quickly and I'm not sick enough to sleep all day, so... not really all that many options." Harry never had been good at entertaining himself. Before Hogwarts, there had been Harry Hunting, at Hogwarts there was Quidditch and chess, and now... well, he was bored without school and the Host Club, though he was loath to admit it. And here the latter was.

"That's very fast," Kyouya stated. The end of what he meant was left hanging, but Harry got the idea. They were all far too curious about matters that didn't pertain to them, but he could understand. He'd always been – and still was – the same way.

A hand wrapped around his forearm caused Harry to look up as Mori tried to tug him to his feet. The taller boy had vacated his seat. "Don't worry about it, Senpai," Harry shook his arm out of the older boy's grip, grimacing as the fabric rubbed against the rash. Not comfortable in the least. If Harry's cheeks were red, it could be attributed to the fever. "I'm not very sick; chickenpox is mild. I'm perfectly fine on the floor."

Actually, he was feeling entirely too warm, especially around his face (no reason... really!), and the air was far too cold, but he didn't feel like grabbing a blanket and actually _looking_ sick. Or more sick. He really did look ill aside from his rosy complexion and the pink spots that could be seen over the collar of his shirt. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was wearing his pajamas or how his eyes seemed to unfocus for no apparent reason, but he certainly looked the part of someone who was faking _not_ being sick just as much as he felt ill, or would if he were used to anything less serious than the flu.

Mori noticed these things and it was apparent that he wasn't going to take Harry's word for it. Instead of letting him stay in his position on the floor, Mori picked up the sick wizard under his elbows (not something that Harry liked, considering it caused his pajama shirt to rub against the itchy spots and make them scream for attention) and set him back in the seat Mori had previously occupied next to Hani with a stern look.

"You have a fever," he intoned when he let go and placed a hand to Harry's forehead to check again. The tall boy stood stalk still for a moment before going around the couch and heading somewhere that Harry couldn't be bothered to look, though when Mori returned with Harry's quilt in his arms it became rather apparent that he had invaded Harry's room. It was rude, but a nice gesture even if Harry didn't _want_ to be bundled up. He was far too warm for that.

"I don't see why I have to be bundled up in _more_ warmth when I'm already overheating," he grumbled quietly into the blanket. "Shouldn't I be drinking cold liquids to get my temperature down instead or something?" He really didn't get it, but when Haruhi drifted away from the kitchen area with a tea tray (how had she known where everything was, anyway?) she had a washcloth – when had she grabbed that? – that was damp with cold water and draped it over his forehead, frowning as she did so.

"That's a strange scar you have," she commented when she stood up properly again. For some reason, the Hosts were terribly matronly in their own ways. Haruhi was taking care of him, Mori making sure he didn't hurt himself, and everyone else... well, they weren't annoying him, so that was always a step up. That did not, however, make him want them to know about his scar.

"It's none of your business," Harry sniped quietly. He was entirely too warm and so they tucked him into a blanket. _Brilliant_. In that moment, he really wished that he was license to give himself a fever reducer, but self-prescription was a precarious business, especially when one was feverish and therefore potentially delusional, and at his age he was lucky to have been given the license to give other people potions on occasion (1). Still, the cool cloth on his forehead did make him feel a little less vindictive. A glance to the side, where Mori had sat down on the floor by Harry's end of the couch where the aforementioned wizard had been sitting not two minutes previously, Harry recalled that he'd already told Mori about that particular scar.

It was too late to go back on it, and he _was_ kind of sick... he could give himself a bit of leeway on that one.

"Hm... do you have a thermometer? You feel really warm," Harry didn't bother informing Haruhi that maybe he was warm because he was wrapped up in a blanket and instead informed her of where the thermometer was. While he waited, he decided to start a conversation – aside from the ones the twins were having over his laptop – because he _really_ wasn't comfortable having Tamaki anywhere near his microwave. Sirius had been bad enough; when Harry had been telling him how to use it he'd stuck a fork inside.

"Anything interesting happen in my absence?" Harry asked curiously. He expected Tamaki to go on about his "rebellious daughter" or for some of the regular club hijinx to come up... not that they didn't, but he used a mental squeegee to rid himself of the image of Tamaki in a loin cloth. The thought of Mori – stupid fever making Harry's face feel warm; maybe he was sicker than he thought? – in some traditional scottish garb was kind of nice though.

"... And then there was this tanuki that gave Mori-senpai some yams," the twins explained. That caught Harry's attention and made him frown around the thermometer.

"A tanuki? That's... actually, I guess it does make sense in some obscure way," Harry commented, thinking back on what he'd read on the raccoon-dogs. "Mori-senpai is good with animals; they like him well enough. You have a chick, don't you?" Mori nodded. "And Hedwig seemed like you." She was being kept out of the flat because Sirius seemed to think she would turn into a chicken. "Tanuki aren't the most trusting of animals, but if they like a human they have been known to follow that person almost to the ends of the earth after a fashion. They're very loyal. What'd you do to get it to like you?"

"Takashi gave it his onigiri," Hani elucidated, though Harry noted that Mori had opened his mouth to reply only to be cut off. Odd. Usually, if Mori was intending to talk, Hani would let him since he didn't speak very often. Actually, Harry realized that he'd heard the older boy talk more and more often since September. "It wanted to pay him back!"

Harry would have nodded, but his neck was bundled and if he tilted his head up then the thermometer would poke the underside of his tongue again, which wasn't something he particularly enjoyed. Said torture device was removed deftly by Mori before he could even contemplate acknowledging the comment, so in the end he did nod while his temperature was being read.

"Thirty-nine point three," Mori said and Harry blinked in surprise. Was he really that warm? When he'd checked around noon, he hadn't even been at thirty-eight, but apparently he's beaten that temperature in the past several hours without even noticing it. Still, a fever was a sign that his body was fighting back. He would surely be better in no time. If he knew anything about magical immune systems (which he felt he did, at least a little), it was that it fought harder than muggles because magic was used to more weird diseases than something like chickenpox. He'd probably be better before the second years left for their trip to France that was taking place next week.

"I didn't realize it was that high," he noted absently. "It could be a lot worse though. It's only chickenpox." He felt like he'd said that several times already, but it hardly mattered. A little reiteration wouldn't make everyone shove him into an ambulance or something.

It was about then that Harry realized how comfortable he was having the Host Club sitting in his apartment, simply drinking tea and talking to and around him. He couldn't feel the walls encroaching in like he had for the dinner, and he felt fine to only glance at the window every so often. He could understand, to an extent, why he wasn't acting up. No one else had ever been in his cupboard, and therefore having people with him, their voices right there, talking to him and having him respond could make him less nervous about not being about to see the sky and being in such a small room. Though, why it hadn't applied the last time they had come...

He sighed into his blankets and nestled in deeper. Really, he was thinking too much. For now he could just sit and wallow in their kindness and not have to worry about having a panic attack. They had come to check on him, after all, so at least one of them had been genuinely worried. The fact that they had come attested to the idea that they cared for him.

He wondered if that wasn't a bad thing.

When Harry didn't respond to a question posed to him, all of the Hosts quieted down a bit as Hani pulled the blanket away from his face. Some were surprised to note that he'd fallen asleep so easily in front of them, others not so much. It took a lot more trust that they figured the small teen had for them to fall asleep around someone, or so studies had shown, especially in abuse cases as they believed him to be.

"Harry-chan must have been really tired," Hani whispered as he slowly slipped away from Harry's side, Usa-chan tightly clasped in his arms (he'd offered to let Harry snuggle with her, but he didn't want to get the stuffed bunny sick). "He didn't even say good night."

"It's time for us to leave, then," Kyouya was already standing up from the chair he had commandeered, closing his notebook and slipping it into his school bag.

Haruhi nodded her agreement to the sentiment. "I'll leave him a note to call down to my apartment if he needs anything. Sirius can't come up until Harry-kun is better, and since I promised to check on him..." she shrugged. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Sirius said that he gets over illnesses quickly. It must be hard not to have anyone able to look over him when he's sick like this, though."

"I had a full staff to look after me when I was sick," Tamaki was looking oddly serious. "And my fever wasn't as high as his. I only had a cold that was easily cured when you all visited me, but... he's really _sick_, right?"

"As he said, chickenpox usually aren't too dangerous, especially for a healthy person, though his fever has spiked higher than it ought to," Kyouya informed the blond. "But, yes, he is more ill than you were, I think. Come on, my car is here." Kyouya waved Tamaki to come along with him, and slowly the room drained of those who didn't actually reside there.

"Takashi, the car should be here any minute," Hani said as he stood by the door looking at his constant companion. Mori looked at him and nodded then glanced at Harry and back to Hani. "I'll wait outside."

Mori found himself lifting Harry up for the second time that day, this time while the boy was bundled up in his blankets and snoozing lightly. Careful not to jostle the younger boy, Mori carried him the short distance to the room he remembered as being Harry's (strangely the only part of the flat that wasn't very neat) and managed to set him gently down on the bed. A gentle hoot and flapping of wings caught his notice and before he could even turn around, he found the familiar sensation of having a bird on his shoulder meeting him, though the bird in question was significantly larger than his Piyo-chan.

"Hedwig," he greeted the bird, scratching her under the beak to earn an appreciative hoot. The sun was going down, and by the owl's indication Mori realized that she probably wanted out to hunt. The window was open – Hedwig had been waiting outside when he went for Harry's blanket, and he had let the owl in – but the bird was smart. Takashi waited for her to fly off before sliding the glass shut and leaving.

The next day Harry woke up around noon, feeling far less feverish but no less itchy than the day before. For the next few days, one or more of the Hosts would come to visit him and keep him company either until he fell asleep again or until they had to leave. Haruhi visited daily, and Ranka dropped by once or twice.

He also noted that it was only on days when Mori visited that Harry would find himself waking up in bed if he had fallen asleep during the visit.

* * *

Sirius Orion Black of flat 3C made an odd sight as he ran through Narita International Airport at seven in the morning. He was dressed in a sort of classy casual manner, which wasn't odd, and he was running, which wasn't odd for him at least, and he was grinning like the cat who caught the canary, which was odd considering that most animalisms regarding his person involved dogs. What was truly odd was that he was waving down a group of high school students who were going through security.

"Kyouya! Wait up!" He called, ducking around people waiting in line. "Ootori Kyouya! Let me through, I need to talk to one of those kids from Ouran. _Yes_, I'm Lord Black. No, I'm not going to – Kyouya!" Thankfully, the second year student had left the queue of students waiting to get to their charter jet and went directly to Sirius instead of letting the man make a fool of himself. "You are a hard kid to get to, you know?"

"I do, yes," Kyouya nodded easily and followed Sirius as he led them away from the people who wanted to meet _the_ Lord Black. "I'm surprised to see you; Harry mentioned once that you usually sleep until noon unless he wakes you, and as he's laid up with chickenpox..."

"Nah, he was cleared an hour ago; I told Haruhi that he gets over things fast," Sirius waved off the end of Kyouya's sentence. What he hadn't mentioned was that the magic in Harry's blood was doing more work than the muggle medicine he'd been prescribed to take. "And I can so wake up early. I had to get up at seven when I was still in school..." He pause, wondering _why_ he'd even replied to that part of the young businessman-in-training's response and continued. "Actually, I need you to do me a favor while you're in France."

"While I'm there, I'm afraid I'll be attending to a personal matter. What is it you'd like me to do? I can't make any promises." It was a simple line that he had used several times on girls who wanted him to do things with them while they were in France. Play tour guide, shop, he declined it all.

"I just need you to deliver this," Sirius held up a thick letter with a name written in romaji script and with an address below it in the same, "to a friend of mine in Barbizon. If you need any help with your 'personal matter' that he could be able to help with, he can, and I'll owe you a huge favor, okay?" He knew that, even if Kyouya weren't a good person at heart, he would do as asked. The prospect of a Lord owing him a favor would be bait too great to turn down.

"I'm looking for someone that even several private detectives can't find. I doubt your friend could help me, but I appreciate your offer all the same and I will have one of my men deliver it," he didn't seem to catch the meaning behind the large grin that Sirius was suddenly sporting.

"Wait, you're just looking for someone? Then he can definitely help you," Sirius nodded sagely. If anyone could find whoever Kyouya was looking for... well, it wouldn't be at all hard. "He's a master of tracking people down. I'd suggest delivering the letter yourself; there's no way he'll say no, especially after he reads my letter, okay?"

"I suppose I will," Kyouya tucked the thick envelope into the carry-on bag he was sporting. "Thank you for your help in this matter, Lord Black." He allowed a small, genuine smile to flash as Sirius made a face as his title being used. "I've got to go; have a nice week and tell Harry I'm glad he's feeling better so soon." In true Host form he bowed easily and turned about with a small wave over his shoulder and rejoined his classmates.

"Kyouya-kun, that man was Lord Black, wasn't he?" One of the girls asked.

"Yes, I'm good friends with his godson," no mention of who the godson actually is, of course.

"Wow, it's like you know everyone! What did he want to talk to you about?" Already girls were clouding around him. As the only Host on the trip it was a given.

"He asked me to visit a friend of his in France, is all," he waved off their attentions expertly, thinking more on what had been said. Lord Black was friends with someone, likely a detective of some sort, who specialized in finding people, and Sirius was someone who didn't seem to want to be found, although neither he nor Harry hid their presence. It had a strange tinge of irony.

"By the way, have you seen Tamaki-kun?"

As Kyouya contemplated the minor mystery given to him, not that he wasn't swamped by many such conundrums regarding Sirius Black, escaped convict who was apparently never actually convicted, the one he thought of twisted on his toes at an approved apparition point near one of the terminals and popped away to go shopping for curtains.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry was having a very ordinary day at school. He handed in assignments that couldn't just be emailed to teachers, used up his breaks and lunch to make up a couple of tests, and generally didn't act at all out of the norm, though he noticed that certain others – meaning Hikaru and Kaoru – were acting more than a bit off, Hikaru more than Kaoru.

From the way he was blushing that morning, Harry could only guess that it was because he'd either done someone stupid (or more so than usual), or that he'd realized that he had more than platonic feelings for Haruhi. It was none of Harry's business anyway, so he gave them a cheery greeting, thanked the Hosts he saw over the course of his school day – just the twins and Haruhi – for coming to visit him while he was sick, and made no comment regarding any odd behavior between the Hosts in his year.

When the school day had ended, Harry begged off of having a cake party with the Hosts ("I only just got better; I don't want to push my body too much. I wasn't in great shape before since I'd been exhausting myself already, and I don't think sugar is going to help, but I'll see you later!") since the Club was cancelled, as was his own Club for the week since the second year boys were necessary for the next ritual Nekozawa wanted to attempt (and attempt was truly the operative word as they never seemed to work).

"Alright Harry-chan, but you should come tomorrow, okay?" Hani demanded.

"I'll try, but it will depend on how I'm feeling." For the most part he just didn't want to ingest whatever insane amount of sugar the small Host would shove at him. It was all more than a little too much. With a smile and some parting words, he left to head for the apparation point damning himself all the way for being so bad at not being friendly with people he considered friends.

* * *

The Hosts in the Host room numbered only three, and while the cake-party had become more of a "look, Haruhi has more yams!" party, they were still enjoying themselves. Haruhi had steamed the sweet potatoes given to her by Kasanoda – such a kind gesture on his part, so it was only natural that he was invited up to enjoy them as well – and she was eating one calmly with Kasanoda at her side, Hani digging in with his usual fervor and Mori lazily eating one as he looked out the window.

A loud bang interrupted the quiet of the Host room on its off-day, and the four present could only stare.

Sirius Black was standing in the middle of the room, looking harried. He hadn't entered through the door or even scaled the walls to get in through one of the windows, either. He had _appeared_ out of thin air with a noise that resembled a car back-firing. The students pinched themselves to be sure that they weren't hallucinating.

"Have you seen Harry?" There was no preamble, no explanation for how he had suddenly appeared out of thin air or anything, just the snapped question in a panicked tone. Sirius was neither elegantly messy, no was he neatly made up as he usually was, instead being a genuine mess. When there was no response, he stepped forward, sending a pleading gaze at the four. "Tell me, _have any of you seen Harry_?"

"He left school an hour ago," Mori stated, his brow furrowed. He was on his feet, stepped slightly forward, though whether it was a position to offer support to the man or to spring into action should he prove to be crazy was indeterminable. The look on his face of concern wasn't as easily mistaken for anything else. "He said he was going home."

"Well he _isn't_ home," Sirius collapsed on the floor, curling up in a ball. "His things are gone and I can't find even a trace of his signature to track. I can't even use a tracing charm on him!" A piece of one of Hani's cakes was suddenly shoved in his mouth and he quieted down a bit. Hani stared at Haruhi.

"Harry-kun and my dad do that to him sometimes," she murmured, "when he gets depressed. Chocolate is usually the only thing that can cheer him up, or that's what Harry-kun said. But... Sirius, you really did just... _appear_, didn't you?"

Sirius just stared at them a moment before realizing what he had done and swore.

**Author's Note: Harry isn't there! Oh noes. And who is it that Sirius wants Kyouya to meet? And now three Hosts (plus Kasanoda) saw Sirius apparate and heard him mention a "tracing charm". Heh...**

**Chickenpox... yeah. I wanted to have a Harry-is-sick thing (but not how the manga does it where the only POSSIBLE reason a character could be sick is if they're lovesick) and chicken pox worked because I wanted him to be in control of himself and get Sirius out of the house. Plus, it's a muggle disease that would keep him pretty well confined without being really bad. Since he is a wizard (I know, horrible logic, right?) he'd get over it more quickly than the norm, and even with his previous state of physical exhaustion his body wouldn't be as bad as it normally would be for a teenager to get it. Chickenpox information comes from iloveindia (dot) com**

**The Kyouya and Sirius scene at the airport is one I've had in my head for over a month, ever since the Karuizawa trip, as well as one of the scenes coming up in the next chapter.**

**My calendar for this story is so messed up... I'm using dates from 2009, moon phases from 2004, and saying it takes place in 2006. The first and second were total accidents, but fixing them would take too much effort, so I'm leaving them as is. JKR also takes major liberties with her calendar, and Bisco doesn't even have one ('til chapter 64 or so), so I think I'm doing quite admirably.**

(1) I've never really had the opportunity to go into this before, but basically Harry had to learn a lot about healing potions and such so that he could use potions to take care of Sirius (some remedies such as headache cures are "over the counter" potions that anyone can take at any time without Healer consultation). He's got a little license card and everything that says he can give people certain kinds of potions, otherwise he wouldn't be able to legally, and he couldn't help out at the Hospital. (2)

(2) At the Hospital he is really doing the early stages of the licensing process with the newer doctors. He's trained beyond what he is training them for, but he is only licensed to train for levels below his own and not equal level. The Company sends an actual healer to train higher level remedy distribution.


	16. Chapter 16

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 16

On Tuesday, November 24, Harry apparated to the approved apparition point and caught a train from the Ourin area to the Ouran area without any great fanfare. He checked his watch as he dismounted the train, noted he had a good half hour until school started, and was glad to not be rushed as he continued on his way to school. He ran through a mental checklist of everything he needed for the day and hummed a tune that he had heard on the Wireless the night before.

The previous evening had been very calm. He had apparated home, read a magical history text, and ate a nice meal of shepherd's pie before going to bed, watching the stars until his eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. He'd had a pleasant sleep, all things considered, and only woken up a few times over the course of the night because he'd kicked away the blankets or because Hedwig wanted in his room. All in all, Harry had had a rather boring evening where nothing particularly scintillating happened and he woke up without mishap.

He fully expected everything to go to pot sometime over the course of the day, but for the moment he was content to take a leisurely walk to school and contemplate just how he would be able to face Sirius at their next encounter, which would doubtlessly be soon.

Conversely, Sirius Black had had one hell of an evening. He had rushed through a rough explanation of what had happened, informing the four students who he had accidentally apparated in front of – well, not accidentally so much as thoughtlessly – that he could explain more when his godson was freed from the Death Eaters who had _obviously_ kidnapped him, reported Harry's disappearance to the Japanese aurors only to be informed that he couldn't be declared a missing person until he'd been missing for forty-eight hours, and been everywhere he could think of looking for said godson. He hadn't slept the night before and no matter how much chocolate he ate, it didn't help.

And on the morning of November 24, he was on the world's biggest sugar crash, no matter how he tried to keep his energy up.

He had also called the Ouran Administrative Department to inform them that he was very sorry, but Harry was going to be absent again because, just when he had gotten over the chickenpox, he had disappeared and Sirius suspected he'd been kidnapped.

So when they called back informing him that Harry had shown up to class as usual, he was naturally bewildered and asked them to send someone down to check, which they did, and they said he was sitting through a lecture and dutifully taking notes. Sirius had flipped his phone shut and apparated to the nearest point he knew of before taking the same train that his godson had (not that he knew it) and ran to Ouran at top speed in a panic.

Harry's morning didn't go overly smoothly when he got to school, considering as soon as he made his way onto campus Hani and Mori found him and were both glad to see him. That is to say, Hani tackled him to ground, soaked the front of his uniform in tears, and blathered on about thinking that the bad men from the festival had kidnapped him and were doing _things_ to him and he was so glad that he wasn't in trouble and could he _please_ call someone next time so they wouldn't worry while Mori stood by looking relieved. Harry had been suitably cowed when he caught sight of the small blond's face and saw the bags under his eyes that signified how much sleep had been lost over the young wizard.

The sight of Mori with equally baggy eyes and relaxed – but still reprimanding – expression made him squirm all the more. He'd known that Sirius was going to be worried and he probably should have informed the older man of his intent to leave, but he hadn't thought of the Hosts. It occurred to him to wonder how they knew he'd been gone and so he asked.

"Siri-chan appeared in the Music Room after school and said he couldn't find you and your things were gone," Hani explained, burying his face in Harry's jacket again. The latter individual was glad they were in one of the less used hallways, because they were making quite a scene... and then his brain caught up with him and he riddled out the wording of Hani's admission.

"Appeared? You mean..." He trailed off, hoping that Sirius hadn't but he realized he probably had. Sirius wasn't stupid by any means, but impulsive and lacking in maturity and insight... well, it was entirely possible that Sirius had done something stupid. When the mumble of "called it 'apparating'" hit his ears, no one could really blame Harry's eyes from widening. "Oh... I'm guessing the rest of the club was there?"

"Just Haru-chan and Bossa-chan (1)," Hani told him. It took Harry a moment to realize who the latter was before he nodded.

"Will you guys meet me during lunch? We can use your club room, and I can talk to Haruhi-san and the twins," Harry posited quickly, looking up from the boy who was curled up against him. He wasn't any good when it came to anyone crying, let alone a childish boy who was older than him. He really had no idea how to treat Hani. "If you see Kasanoda-san before then, can you ask him as well? I guess I have some things to explain." And another person to pay a revealing fee for, though really it ought to be Sirius doing so, but Harry wasn't too keen on seeing him any time soon.

"Aa," Mori leaned down and drew Hani off of the young wizard, who stood up off the ground with ease.

"I'm really sorry I made you guys worry," Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I honestly didn't mean for Sirius to... but he's impulsive, I guess. He never even tried calling me, but I'm really sorry for the trouble." And then he drew his wand from his sleeve, muttered a quick drying spell to remove the wet spot on his shoulder, and went off to class.

He did get to see the openly shocked expression on both Hani and Mori's face though, and it put him in an oddly good mood for everything that had happened. After all, he'd moved out of the apartment the previous morning before school started (not that he had a lot to move), sent everything to his new manor, and he hadn't left so much as a note. The guilt was eating at him, especially since he realized that at least two Hosts had lost sleep over him. And now he had to explain magic over the course of lunch and likely dodge Sirius at some point during the day.

That last point came up far sooner than Harry had expected. As he was sitting through a literature lecture – he'd already told Haruhi and the twins about the meeting during lunch – the door to classroom 1-A burst open and Harry found himself tackled from his desk with Sirius hugging him to death.

"You idiot! No note and you were gone and –" Sirius kept blathering on and on (without any talk of magic, thankfully, or else there would be a classroom full of students in the know that shouldn't be) until Harry pried Sirius' arms from around his neck.

"Sirius, _shut up_," he commanded and managed to get himself off the floor. The entire class stared at him, most of them able to identify _the_ Lord Black despite his disheveled appearance. Harry ignored them. "I'm really sorry about him, Ito-sensei. My guardian can be a bit eccentric, but I assure you it won't happen again. _Right_, Sirius?" He sent a withering look at the older man. "If you will excuse me for a minute or two, I will deal with him and be right back." He waited patiently for the teacher to recollect herself and dismiss him before he dragged a rather stunned Sirius out of the classroom in a less than dignified manner.

"Harry, where have you _been_? I spent all night looking for you, thinking you were kidnapped by Malfoy again, and when I call in to say you won't be in to school today, they tell me _you're already here_!" Sirius was frustrated, and when he got frustrated he seems angry.

"If you had _called my phone_ you would have known that I was working on the house after school for a little while," the fact that it was _his_ house that no one else knew about went unmentioned. "Then I went home. I wasn't in any danger. Not to mention when I came to school today I found out that you worried Hani-senpai and Mori-senpai unnecessarily and apparated in front of them. You're lucky I already paid the revealing fee for the Hosts back in July, or you would be in trouble for not reporting it immediately. As it is, I wired the fees for Kasanoda and I'm going to explain what happened _properly_ to them during lunch."

"Your things were gone! The picture and your clothes - what was I supposed to think?" It was a valid question, all of them were, really, but Harry had to keep the man appeased until he could tell him in an appropriate way just what had happened. He feared he wouldn't be able to look anyone in the eye properly until he did. Maybe he would let Sirius see the house one day, after the Death Eaters had been dealt with.

"We can have this talk later," Harry said with a tone of finality. "I have a class to get to, and _you_ need to go home and sleep. The good-dreams are on the bottom left-hand corner of the cabinet, dreamless on the right-hand as always. Just..." The guilt was killing him, but he felt he had to do this. He was horrible at distancing himself, but at least a little distance might dissuade Malfoy and the rest some. Merlin only knew how badly he was doing about this with the Hosts. "Go home, get some rest. I'll treat you to dinner later."

"But..." Harry had already slipped through the door to his classroom and apologized to the teacher and class again before taking his seat.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before morning break came and Harry found Kasanoda quickly, telling him to come to the Hosts' club room during lunch, before returning to his own class to wait out the time before the math teacher arrived. He'd noticed that Hikaru and Kaoru seemed to be having a genuine fight (unlike the fake fights Harry had witnessed), and wasn't surprised to see only Kaoru was talking with Haruhi.

He was surprised that Hikaru approached him.

"You had a lot of people really worried, you know," he mentioned as he sat down on top of Harry's desk. "I don't think Mori-senpai slept a wink last night." Harry blinked.

"How would you know that?" He was genuinely curious. Hikaru turned his head to the side and looked decidedly tame, enough so that Harry wondered if he hadn't mislabeled the twins again.

"Kaoru and I are fighting," the not-mislabeled Hikaru informed him with a grimace. "I've stayed the past couple of nights at Mori-senpai's place to... work things out a bit. He spent the entire night in his meditation room with his tanuki and came out this morning looking like the dead. It's probably creepier seeing him dead tired and almost walking into walls than when he is just kind of sleepy and starts emoting." Hikaru chuckled hollowly and sent Harry another glance. "From what little I got him to tell me, I was pretty convinced you were kidnapped."

"That seems to be the general consensus," Harry agreed. "I'm sorry if I worried you, it really wasn't my intention, but Sirius is irrational. He got Mori-senpai and Hani-senpai all worked up over me, and Haruhi-san called me this morning. I didn't even know that she knew my number." The guilt was eating at him more and more with each encounter. Well, it had been eating at him since he originally planned on leaving Sirius; he'd be lucky if there anything left of him by the time anything actually happened to tell him if he'd done the right thing or not. He decided to change the subject before his emotions decided to mutiny. "I'm guessing you and Kaoru-san are fighting about your... feelings regarding Haruhi-san?"

Hikaru seized up. "That has nothing to do with you," he snapped quietly. It was all the answer Harry needed.

"Kaoru cares a lot for you. I doubt if he would purposefully harm your relationship, but it's plain as day to anyone in the know that you two are infatuated with the girl. You guys should just sit down and have a chat about your situation, or else one of you will have to make some sort of move on all of this, you know?"

"And how do you know so much?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Back at... my old school, I wasn't very close friends with Fred and George – the English twins, remember? – but I knew them pretty well. You could say they share the same brain. They had the same interests, the same hobbies, played the same position on the sports team even. Naturally, when we had a school dance in my fourth year, they wanted to ask the same girl. I walked in on them fighting one night, and no one had ever even heard of them fighting over anything. The next day, Fred asked out the girl and they went to the dance while George went with her best friend."

"Oh... 'kay?" Hikaru had a perplexed expression on his face. "Then how do you know? You just said your friends had a fight and one of them got the girl. How does that help me?"

"Fred is the dominant personality in their relationship," Harry replied easily. It was the truth. Fred was always first in "Fred and George" just like Hikaru was the star of the "Guess Which is Hikaru Game." Fred and George were, to an extent, the same person, because they grew up as the same entity to all the people that mattered. They shared their thoughts, feelings, everything, but there were subtle differences that Harry had learned to pick up on, and the most important was that Fred was usually the instigator. Hikaru was the one who initiated the "situations" with his brother. He didn't know if that little tidbit would help at all, but insight could come from the most inane comments.

"Alright everyone, settle down. Hitachiin-kun, get back to your _own_ seat!" The math instructor, Oomae Manabu, snapped as he strode into the room and everything went back to the relative calm and boredom that was mathematics.

At eleven fifty, seven teenagers could be found in the third music room in the South building of Ouran High School. Not that this was unusual, considering that this was a room used only for a club with seven members, but the fact that two of the students present were not part of the club in question and that the meeting had been called by someone other than their absent King was a bit odd.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not quite knowing what to do. Everyone had picked up lunch in the cafeteria (minus Haruhi, of course) and then gone up to the room for the rest of their lunch hour. But Harry really didn't know where to begin. So he asked for someone to recount what had happened the day before so he knew what to cover. The twins were noticeably confused – which was kind of funny in a way since they were sitting on opposite sides of the group – and it was, surprisingly, Kasanoda who managed to elaborate.

While enjoying a nice afternoon snack of the yams that Kasanoda had given Haruhi, a loud bang like a gun firing or a car backfiring had erupted from the center of the club room. When everyone looked over, Sirius had been standing there, looking about frantically, and speaking nonsense about Harry being kidnapped and something called a trace charm. After getting his mouth stuffed with chocolate, a la Haruhi, Sirius had calmed down enough to hear what was being said to him and had started swearing up a storm. He had stood up, said something along the lines of "magic, I was apparating, I'll explain later, tell me if you see Harry, bye!" and had disappeared with another loud bang.

Harry groaned. "Sweet Circe, that man has no tact," he sighed heavily and leaned on the arm rest of his chair. "Well, this is going to take up all of lunch to explain, I'm sure. Magic is real."

The twins burst into action – accidentally in unison – and gave him identically put-out "you can't possibly be serious" looks. "I thought you were going to tell us something good!" They protested, then realized they'd spoken together. It was, surprisingly, Hikaru who looked down first.

"I consider it _quite_ good, thanks," Harry huffed. "Plenty of things have or are magic. The medicines that Potter-Evans produces are all magic potions that make no sense chemically. The head-ache cures, if the magical element was taken out, would have the same chemical properties as nitric acid, but –" He stopped and grimaced. No technical stuff. "Right, you don't know the theory..."

So he explained – in the least technical terms he could manage – what magic was and some everyday examples of it that they could all relate to. When he mentioned something even vaguely related to history, a light seemed to click in Mori's head.

"The book," he said quietly. Harry blinked owlishly at the statement. What on earth was Mori talking about? "When you chose our costumes, you left out a book. I thought it was fiction."

Harry caught on quickly. "I'd forgotten about that," it had been months, after all. "It wasn't fiction, though at the time I figured you would think it was, since to normal people it would seem far too fantastic. I don't even know why I left it out that day, but you're on the right track, Senpai." Now that he thought of it, Harry wasn't sure if he had ever got the book back, since Sirius had been packing everything away for him.

Then he explained Hogwarts, or at least some of it. The Hosts had been under the impression that Hogwarts and the associated houses were something from a book or else something he'd made up at some point, the first option being the most popular since, according to Hani, Fred and George had understood when he introduced them using the Houses as identifiers. Harry didn't recall any such thing, but some people had strange memory for details. All of his exploits from school were left out of the equation.

"Show us some magic then, Harry-kun," Hikaru demanded, looking quite mischievous at the prospect. It was quite a change from his secluded, stand-offish attitude from earlier in the day.

"What do you want me to do?" Harry hoped it wouldn't be something ridiculous that he hadn't learned to do yet. Honestly, he didn't know what he could do. Making a tea cup tap dance was useless and could be easily mistaken as a hallucination or something, and it wouldn't be a good idea to show them any defensive or offensive magic.

"Can you turn into an animal?" Kaoru asked curiously. Of course Harry had to jinx himself and end up being asked to do something he couldn't. It was really just the way of things.

"No, I'm not an animagus," though it occurred to him that it would be interesting to learn, "you'll have to ask Sirius to show you that. Something else, perhaps? Mind, I'm nowhere near done with my magical education, but I do know a fair amount."

"What about that Appa-whatever thing? They all got to see Sirius do it," Kaoru tried again. Harry nodded and stood up before turning on his heel and disappearing with a loud popping noise to appear on the other side of the room and walked back, wishing he hadn't eaten lunch at all. Apparating on a full stomach wasn't very pleasant.

"Yours wasn't as loud as the other guy's," Kasanoda observed.

"Sirius was frantic from what you lot told me," Harry replied smoothly. "He probably wasn't focusing as much as he ought to, so the banging would be louder like it is with a beginner; some of the most experienced apparaters can do it almost silently. Honestly, he's lucky he didn't lose a leg..."

And then they roped him into telling them about splinching until it was almost time to head back to class. That was when the most important points came up, or what was the most important in Harry's eyes.

"You guys took this a lot better than I anticipated," Harry said, smiling slightly. Of course, he hadn't told them the bad things yet, nor did he intend to tell them too much for a good while, if ever. He was bad at distancing, but if things got bad enough he knew he could cut all ties in one way or another. "I don't have to tell you to keep all of this a secret, right?" Everyone agreed. "Right. One last thing, I guess, which is important at least to the Hosts. Haruhi-san, Kasanoda-san, at the summer festival there were three criminals from the magical world who all have grudges against me. They have each broken every law that I know of, and they saw me in the company of the Hosts. If anyone from Britain who you don't know approaches any of you, I suggest running, especially if they pull out a wand. Also, if you see a tall blond man with a snake-head cane, get as far away as possible as quick as you can."

"Harry-chan, why are scary guys like that after you?" Hani had probably been the most stunned (visibly) by the whole thing and had even taken on a deadly-serious look for a while that Harry had only seen on his face maybe twice.

Harry wasn't entirely sure how to answer without telling them things about himself that he didn't want them to know, but he had promised not to lie. He was just... omitting some of the truth. "I'm rather famous in the wizarding world," he admitted. "My family was high profile until my parents were killed, and then when I returned to the magical world there was an uproar and my popularity soared. My death would lower morale in a lot of magical societies since I survived an attack by the Death Eaters." Really just Voldemort, but they didn't know that. "This has been going on for years though, so it's not like I'm unused to it."

The warning bell rang before any further questions could be asked and Harry promised to make himself available during lunch the next day.

Hikaru wasn't that patient. "Why not after school? Black Magic Club is cancelled just the same as the Host Club."

"I'm busy after school today; I need to reprimand Sirius for being a loon," Harry waved the complaint off as he made his way out the door. "Why don't you and Kaoru just ask your dad?" Which left both of the twins, arguing as they were, to send very confused looks at his retreating back before running after him while everyone else filed out much more calmly.

When school let out for the day, Harry went home, had a nice snack prepared by one of the three house elves on staff, and waited to get a call from Sirius saying he was ready to go for dinner. Harry squirmed in his seat all afternoon, wondering just how he was going to explain this to his godfather and knowing that the evening wouldn't go over well.

* * *

One hour after school got out in Ouran on Tuesday the 24th of November, it was eight o'clock in the morning in another country all together: France.

Ootori Kyouya woke up far earlier than he would have liked, but found that he was more awake than he would like to be anyway and left his hotel with his bodyguards in tow. He stared at the letter he had been given to deliver and pondered over who, exactly, he was supposed to be giving it to. The name didn't ring any bells. It seemed odd that someone who Sirius Black, an actual Lord, could call a friend would be someone with a name completely lacking in importance, but the man was strange in general. After all, he seemed equally comfortable living in a small apartment as he was dining at a five star restaurant.

"We have arrived," Hotta intoned as the car pulled in front of what could be described as a modest dwelling. The house was two stories with a small garden out in the front. Kyouya would describe the home as pathetically small for someone who was an associate of someone as high profile as Sirius Black.

"Wait out here," Kyouya commanded the trio (they called themselves Team Kyouya because they were his personal staff). "I don't know how long this encounter will take, so be sure to entertain yourselves." It was code for "this is important so don't bother trying to get me to leave early" as "Team Kyouya" well knew. Kyouya himself left the car, walked up to the door at a brisk, but natural, pace and rang the doorbell.

It took almost a full minute for the door to be opened, and the person who did so surprised Kyouya quite a bit. He was above average in height, though only just, with graying hair and a tired looking face that was riddled with scars. Amber eyes shone from behind a curtain of ill-kempt honey-colored locks. The man had a tired look about him, and if Kyouya was any judge – he felt that he was – the man was rather ill or at least very fatigued. So this was Remus Lupin.

Conversely, Remus Lupin had no idea who the young man in front of him was. To his knowledge, there was no reason why a teenager would be at his door, and he'd never seen the boy in his life. "Um, good morning," he greeted in French. "May I help you?" The boy furrowed his brow for a half second before his head tilted just-so and allowed the sunlight to reflect off of his glasses in a way that completely hid his eyes from Remus' view. Then he held out his hand, which had an envelope clasped in it. Remus recognized his own name and address and the handwriting it was written in and brightened a bit. "Sirius sent you?"

The boy said something in a language that Remus didn't know – not hard considering he knew only English, French, and some Latin – though he could guess by the boy's appearance that it was an Asian tongue. Not that he could tell which one. But if Sirius had sent him... Remus stepped aside and gestured for the boy to enter his home. It wouldn't do for any muggles to watch the encounter.

He led the boy into his kitchen, drew his wand, and muttered a quick incantation to translate what the boy said and heard into French. Remus normally would have put the charm on himself, but since he didn't know what language the boy was speaking it was best to go the other way about. The boy stared at him for a moment.

"What did you just do?" He asked. Remus shrugged.

"Just a quick translation," Remus waved off the surprise. Had Sirius neglected to mention that he was a wizard? The man wouldn't have sent a muggle to him though, that much he knew. Such a thing would be well beyond stupid, and while Sirius was impulsive, brash, and everything Gryffindor, he wasn't stupid... at least not _that_ stupid. "Would you like some tea or coffee?"

Ootori Kyouya did _not_ speak French. He hadn't understood a word of what Lupin was saying to him, and he knew just as well that the older man hadn't understood him either, but as soon as he'd waved that... _stick_, they understood each other perfectly. And Kyouya could certainly tell that he was suddenly speaking French when he knew that, by all rights, he shouldn't be. He knew the odd word here and there from Tamaki, but that was it. Yet here he was, sitting in this man's kitchen, and understanding every word that the man said.

He was also under the distinct impression that this house was bigger on the inside than the out... but that was impossible, wasn't it?

"Coffee would be fine," Kyouya replied after a moment. He had to find out what had just happened. "Translation" was hardly an accurate description of whatever it was. "My name is Kyouya Ootori." He stopped and blinked, glad that the man didn't turn around to see his surprise. He'd intended to say Ootori Kyouya, but something... it switched to the westernized order. "I take it you are Remus Lupin?"

"The one and only, to my knowledge," Lupin replied. He walked back to the table with two mugs of coffee in hand, though Kyouya had been sure that the coffee maker sitting on the counter had been empty when they walked in. He might have missed it though. Kyouya contemplated his coffee while Lupin read his letter, barely holding himself back from reading it over the man's shoulder, but it apparently didn't hold good news judging by the way Lupin's face paled half way through.

Remus had blanched with good reason, too.

_'Hey Moony!_

_How has France been treating you? I know they have less stringent rules about werewolves, so that's always a plus, right? Sorry we haven't contacted you in a while, but Harry has been busy with school and business, and I... well, you're scary when you're mad!_

_Japan is pretty neat. I have a house near Aoyama, but I'm still getting it ready so Harry and I are living in an apartment. My boyfriend (yes, I said boyfriend; it's a serious relationship!) lives downstairs with his daughter. Ranka is a really cool guy, and Haruhi goes to school with Harry. They're in the same class and everything, so it's convenient for them too._

_There are loads of good things going on around here, too. Harry made friends with some boys from his school, plus Haruhi, though he'll probably not admit that they really are friends for a good while. He's really protective of them all. This letter should have been delivered by one or two second years at his school – think sixth year at Hogwarts – Kyouya and Tamaki. Kyouya is a nice Slytherin-type and Tamaki... well, I guess he's kind of like I was only a lot more flowery. If Tamaki is there, he's fluent in French and can translate for you. If not, I would suggest putting a translation charm on yourself so you can understand Japanese._

_Can't have you revealing the magical world now, right?_

_On the flipside, there are some not-so-great things going on over here too. Harry is trying to isolate himself, but he sucks at it so there isn't too much to worry about with that. He has chickenpox right now, so I can't enter the apartment, but all his friends from school have visited a few times to check on him. They say he's alright for the most part._

_But that's not all. I'm not sure if it was in the news, but Death Eaters attacked on Halloween. No one died, and all the injuries were from shrapnel, easily repaired, but they are here. They only attacked places that were already closed for the night and empty. I saw Bellatrix and Rodolphus, and Harry has run into Lucius twice now. He also said he saw MacNair and Nott._

_Anyway, can you forward the second letter on to my dearest cousin? Nymphadora I mean (don't tell her I wrote her name in here or she'll kill me). Have you two gotten together yet? Get to it old man!_

_Hope you're enjoying France!_

_Padfoot'_

Remus had a hard time reading past the middle when he realized that Kyouya was, in fact, a muggle and that he really had trusted Sirius a bit too much for this. He blamed his best friend entirely and wondered if he would be in trouble with the French government or the Japanese one for revealing magic to the kid. Of course, he could always obliviate the boy, but... well, that was hardly fair.

Instead of freaking out like most wizards would (though he was having a miniature panic attack in his brain, it was more because of the "Death Eaters are in Japan hunting Harry" revelation), Remus folded up the letter, put it into his pocket, and explained magic to the "Slytherin type" as Sirius had called him. He did a few basic examples of magic, said a bit about Hogwarts (the boy seemed to know about the Houses, oddly enough), and all in all Kyouya took it quite well. That is to say, he didn't start shouting, nor did he faint.

"It makes sense," Kyouya stated when the explanation was over. "Harry and my family's company have many business deals, and I'm well versed in the ways of the medicines that the Potter-Evans Company makes. If they're magic potions... they do the impossible more often than not."

"Lily – Harry's mother – went to a lot of trouble to start that company," Remus informed the boy. It was the truth. "She had to go through seven separate trials just to get the right to start it and she was married to James by the time they were licensed to create and distribute medical potions. The fact that she managed it at all is considered a miracle, and she went to a lot more trouble than most people would have so that she could, but that was what made her Lily. She didn't care if her own name was dragged through the mud; she just wanted to save lives."

"I see... I suppose that magic would be why Sirius believed you could help me then, Monsieur Lupin," Kyouya was slightly miffed that he couldn't used the usual suffixes and that when he tried they either changed to something else or vanished entirely. "I am looking for someone, and from what I know she hasn't been found by anyone else."

"Just give me a name," Remus was exceptionally good with tracking charms, which was understandable since he had done most of the wand work on the Marauder's Map. He was a teacher by profession, teaching English on the college level and had a few days off for the full moon even if the administration and his students didn't know that that was his reason. With the full moon being in two days, he felt like crap, but a pepper-up would help to an extent.

"Anne-Sophie Grantainne."

Remus choked on his coffee. "Anne? Seriously? Merlin, and here I thought you were going to ask me to find someone _difficult!_" At Kyouya's look, Remus chuckled, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Anne-Sophie lives on the other side of town. She's a nice woman, though she's very sad. Apparently her son is living in Japan and she only gets the occasional photo of him."

Kyouya couldn't stop himself from gaping.

In Japan, a tall half-French boy with blonde hair sneezed and wondered if he was catching a cold again.

**Author's Note: Remus has far too much confidence in Sirius and his reasoning abilities. It might seem unrealistic for him to do magic all willy-nilly like that, but the way I see it, Remus wouldn't think that Sirius would send a muggle to him with a letter if he sent a person at all. He would figure Kyouya was a wizard, and then judge him to be too young to be able to use the translation spell himself (I figure France would have similar restraints to England, but not quite the same), etc etc. This also means that Tamaki is going to be the last to know about magic... heheh...**

**Okay, so I've received questions regarding what's going on OHSHC timeline... for those of you who have not read the manga, the second year class went on a trip to France, but Tamaki isn't going because that's where his mother is, and he isn't allowed to see her. The class trip takes place from chapters 51-56. The twins weren't at the "cake/yam party" because they both love Haruhi and got into a fight over her. Hikaru stayed a few nights at Mori's house and Kaoru had a talk with Hani at the start of the France arc.**

(1) I seriously couldn't find any point in the series where Hani addresses Kasanoda, so this was the best I could manage with what he might call him.


	17. Chapter 17

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 17

_What kind of Gryffindor am I?_ Harry wondered as he lay sprawled on his back staring at the stars twinkling above his head. The comforter below his slim frame was anything but as he cursed himself for being such a low-life coward. He hadn't done it, and as he glared at the see-through ceiling above his head, he wondered if Sirius would ever be able to forgive him for this.

Dinner had been simple. Sirius wanted to go to a conveyor belt sushi place, so Harry took him to one. They ate, talked, and Harry tried to think of how best to break the news that he was now living on his own and that no, Sirius could not live with him because he felt it was for the older man's own safety. Before Harry could formulate how to go about it – how he wished he had Hermione's brain right then – it was getting late and Sirius was going to head to the okama bar. At the apparition point, Sirius said he would see Harry at home before Harry popped off to his house.

And he felt like a bloody ponce for it.

Harry managed to dodge all of Sirius' queries for the next few days and he tried to bury himself in near-nonexistent school work. He noticed escalation in the rift between the twins and suspected that they hadn't talked it through yet... and then on Friday Hikaru came to school with black hair and they were laughing it up like old times. It was mildly disturbing, but Harry ignored it. Everyday during lunch he would meet with the Hosts (plus Kasanoda) and answer their questions about magic and even brought Nekozawa one day so they would understand the difference between a muggle and a squib.

Harry found the lunchtime rendezvous to be rather relaxing, actually, and was actually looking forward to it. He knew, of course, that when Tamaki and Kyouya got back from the trip to France that he would have to tell them about magic and basically redo the entire process. Hopefully, that wouldn't be too difficult and would continue to relieve stress. Tamaki wasn't exactly the Host that Harry was closest to (that place was pretty much given to Hani and Mori, oddly enough), but he knew quite well that the older boy would be firing questions and going insane. Kyouya would either be calmly accepting or disbelieving, though which Harry couldn't really guess.

However, with the weekend approaching – as well as the return of the second year students – Harry couldn't help but feel apprehensive. He could get away with texting excuses to Sirius on the weekdays, saying he went for a fly or that he was furniture shopping and that they must have just missed each other, but that wouldn't hold for the weekend. He was lucky that Sirius hadn't come to the school again, but it was pretty much guaranteed that he would go to the Hospital while Harry was "teaching." It wouldn't be a pretty confrontation.

So he was surprised when, ten minutes after school, Sirius sent him a text message that he would be out all night but he would be home late on Saturday. Had he really not noticed anything? Harry let out a shaky, relieved breath and apparated to his house where he was pampered by the house elves (never mind that he had asked them not to) and practiced some charms that he had read up on.

* * *

Sirius wasn't the sort who went to airports often. In fact, he'd only been on a plane three times – discounting change-overs – and in an airport when he wasn't going to be on a plane once. Now the latter was twice and he was in an airport twice in a week. It was getting to be nearly six in the evening, but he waited patiently (or as patiently as he could) for a certain flight to get in. As soon as he saw the board change to say that that certain flight arrived, he was practically jumping for joy... well, he was literally jumping, but not a lot. More like bouncing, but Blacks don't bounce, even the white sheep that the family's Lord was, though...

"Sirius!" He snapped out of his little mental rant and found his vision full of gouge-my-eyes-out-with-a-spork pink (1). "Merlin, it's been forever! Well, months really, but that _seems_ like forever given everything. How have you been? Where's Harry? You haven't gotten in too much trouble, have you?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Nymphy dearest," Sirius ducked quickly as his favorite cousin tried to clock him and laughed. "Now now, is that any way to treat the Head of the family and your absolute _favorite_ cousin on the face of the earth?"

"Like I have much choice in favorites; it's either you or Narcissa's brat," Tonks snorted derisively before enveloping her _favorite_ cousin in a hug. "But I'm glad to see you, I suppose. Even though I'd be bound to arrest you and take you straight to Azkaban if we were on British soil right now."

"Which is why we aren't." He flashed her a wolfish grin and gave her a hug before releasing her and looking around. "Sorry we couldn't tell you where we were going when we left, but you are an auror, and we needed to make sure we were a-OK before showing ourselves to the public, you know? Most people, even magicals, don't know that Harry is here, but I'm basking in my celebrity." He rolled his eyes to show that he was kidding about the last bit before scanning the crowd. "So, where's Moony? I sent him a ticket too."

"He's being a perfect gentleman," Tonks smirked and managed to cuff Sirius while he was scouting for his best friend. "And _that's_ for calling me Nymphadora in his letter! Honestly... anyway, Remus is carrying both our bags from the plane and told me to go on ahead of him. I didn't want to, but that man is just as stubborn as any Black. And since the full moon was just the other day... well, I tried to take the bags, but you know how he is."

"That's why you love him," Sirius nodded safely before he was cuffed again. "Ow! What was that one for? I was telling the truth."

"That's just for being a bastard in general _Lord_ Black," Tonks snorted. They bantered a bit more, though Sirius didn't forget that he hadn't answered the young metamorphamagus when she asked about Harry. How could he? Harry hadn't actually told Sirius, but he knew that his godson had moved out. The lack of personal affects and contact made it obvious. He was a failure as a godfather.

As soon as Sirius caught sight of Remus coming through security with two tug-along bags, he ran up and enveloped him in a hug before taking the bags from the man. Escorting them to the baggage claim, Sirius was silently cursing himself. He had written their letters thinking that, whatever Harry was planning would wait until at least Christmas, but instead didn't even last through November. Sirius Black was not a stupid man by any means. He was seventh in his class at Hogwarts, a top duelist, and the first person to ever escape Azkaban unaided. Stupid was probably one of the last words that could be used to describe him. He'd known that Harry was planning to distance himself somehow, it was obvious, but he'd hoped that Harry would at least _tell_ him when that time came.

Instead, Harry had left without warning, sending Sirius into a fit that revealed magic to four muggles, and when Harry had the opportunity to tell him, he hadn't. So Sirius pretended he didn't notice a thing, that Harry wasn't avoiding him and that he really had been over reacting (well, he had, but that was beside the point). It was pretty much tearing him up inside and Harry wasn't showing any indication that he would tell Sirius anything.

"So, Sirius," Tonks started as they all got into the cab that was taking them to Sirius' flat – there was too much luggage to feasibly apparate with, plus Remus was still feeling ill from the full moon – "You never answered my question about where Harry is. I figured you would bring him with you to meet us. His muggle school can't possibly give him _that_ much work, can it?"

"I invited you both as a surprise for him, so he doesn't even know you're in the country," Sirius informed her, feeling his guts twist. "It would have spoiled the surprise for him if I brought him to the airport with me, you know? But... well, you both know he's pretty thick about certain things and how he's as self-sacrificing as they come, right?" Both of the guests looked confused but nodded. The taxi started driving. "He's been planning it for months, I'm sure, but he left on Monday at some point. That same day he was checked up on and the doctors said he was chickenpox free, so he went to school... but when I got home, all his stuff was gone. We talked on Tuesday but he never told me he was moving out and he _still_ hasn't but I know he has. I also kind of..." he lowered his voice slightly to be sure that the driver didn't hear, "apparated in front of his friends from school. I expect he's going to tell Tamaki and Kyouya when they get back to the country tomorrow, or at school on Monday."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Well, I wasn't going to mention this until we got back to your flat, but you don't have to worry about him needing to tell Kyouya. I assumed that if you sent someone to my house that you wouldn't send someone who wasn't a wizard," he leaned back in his seat. "I've decided that I give you far too much credit."

Sirius gaped, "You told Kyouya about... but why would you have had to use it before even reading my letter? Tamaki would have been fine as an interpreter, if a bit overenthusiastic, and I can't see you spelling anything in front of a person randomly..."

"Kyouya told me that his friend couldn't come on their class trip _because_ it was to France. The boy's mother lives there, and apparently he's never allowed to see her again, so Kyouya wanted to check up on her for him. I didn't know what language he was speaking either, so I had to charm _him_ before I read the letter so I could be a proper host," Remus snorted before sending a half-hearted glare at his friend. "Just send an owl next time, would you? I'm sure if you chain from office to office it wouldn't take too long."

The remainder of the ride was silent as they all contemplated... whatever they felt like contemplating. Sirius was wondering how to get Harry to the flat for dinner with them at the very least. The surprise had, after all, been for him. Sirius figured that, since Harry wasn't living with him anymore, much as he hated it, it was probably a better idea to go out for dinner, though Tonks and Remus would be suffering from jetlag. He called Harry anyway and invited him to meet him at the sushi place they had visited on Tuesday and told him to feel free to invite his friends from school since Sirius was roping a few people in as well.

* * *

Seven o'clock rolled around and Harry found himself waiting at the sushi restaurant patiently for his godfather. He had called the Hosts – discounting Kyouya and Tamaki since the Ouran Charter Jet wasn't due in until the next day – and invited them, though he'd had to get the numbers from Haruhi when he called her. Ranka wasn't working that night either, so Sirius had invited him as Haruhi had informed the young wizard. Waiting, however, was boring, and the fact that Sirius didn't know he'd moved out... well, technically no one knew, and that made him squirm all the more. The guilt from Tuesday hadn't abated in the slightest.

Harry had noticed that, of all the Hosts, it was Mori and Hani who were most punctual. Not that he minded, considering they were his favorites among the Hosts; Hani because it was nice to see someone enjoy their childhood as much as he did (plus he was great fun most of the time) and Mori for reasons which Harry found obvious. It was because of the aforementioned fact of punctuality that he wasn't at all surprised to see Mori walking down the street while giving Hani a piggy-back ride, Usa-chan hanging over his shoulder. They had, thankfully, taken Harry's advice about it being a regular establishment and, if possible, to not cause a scene of any sort.

"Good evening Hani-senpai, Mori-senpai," Harry nodded to them both with a small smile. A twinge in his mind told him that he really was _that_ bad at distancing himself from people that he cared about. "Still waiting on everyone else. How have you guys been this weekend?"

"We've been having fun, Harry-chan!" Hani piped up from his position on Mori's back before jumping off in a way that Harry felt would have hurt probably anyone but Mori who was obviously far too used to such things. "Takashi had a kendo competition today and I got Chika-chan to eat a cake! It was only a carrot cake – I don't like them very much because they aren't very sweet, but Usa-chan likes them a lot – but he ate a piece of cake and he hasn't eaten any cake in a really long time! Takashi placed first and Satoshi got second in the junior division. You should come next time, right Takashi?" It was amazing how much he could say at once. It reminded Harry of Hermione's one-breath rants.

"Aa," Mori nodded, eyes on Harry as he acknowledged the statement. Not for the first time in their acquaintance, Harry wondered if Mori was actually paying attention when his cousin was speaking or if he just agreed out of habit. Either was a strong possibility. "You would like it." Well, he'd been paying attention that time at least, if he was saying something outside the norm. His eyes rested on Harry a moment more before drifting off to the side.

"I'll consider it, at least," Harry replied. He honestly had no idea about kendo except that it involved swords. Swords, of course, were very cool, so Harry felt it couldn't hurt to go to one of Mori's tournaments at some point. His eyes fell suddenly to a purple bruise on Mori's arm. "Senpai, did you get hit?" It was a good sized bruise, too. He was glad that he had his bag, per usual, with the first-aid potions kit.

"It doesn't hurt much," Mori shrugged stiffly, his eyes sliding down from where they had been observing Harry's expression. Said wizard sighed in exasperation and pulled a small pot of bruise-balm – the size of a lip balm container – and dabbed some of the goop on his fingers before he set to work, muttering under his breath.

"I told you months ago that I don't mind healing you," Harry groused as he rubbed the balm in. "Make it a bit easier on me next time, will you? If your sleeves were an inch longer I wouldn't have noticed and then your bruise would be stuck as is until it healed naturally since you obviously weren't going to mention it."

He drew away from the older boy's arm, making sure that the bruise was completely coated – it already looked a little bit lighter – and nodded to himself. The wind picked up and he shivered slightly before realizing that it was cold... and Mori was wearing a t-shirt. Mori was the most practical of the Host boys, so the fact that he was wearing a t-shirt without a coat in late November stuck out in Harry's mind quite easily. He could understand if it was perhaps Tamaki, who seemed to care more about looking showy than comfort, but it seemed... odd for Mori.

"Let's get into a more covered area," Harry proposed. He hadn't been lying about what he'd said about Mori's sleeve length being just an inch shy of covering the injury. In fact, it was at just a length where it could actually highlight that he had a bruise to begin with. He hadn't protested the treatment, so it wasn't like he meant to keep it as a show of his battle scar (the idea was ridiculous). "You're probably freezing, aren't you?"

Mori did not agree, but he didn't disagree either as Harry tugged both him and Hani under the overhang in front of the restaurant and – using Mori as a shield to hide his actions from passerby – performed a warming charm on the taller boy to keep the chill away. Mori nodded his appreciation and seemed to loosen his stance a little bit. Harry realized that he'd actually been a bit huddled before, and very much aware of the temperature. It was no secret to anyone who went outside that it was dark and cold out, so the fact that he'd come like that was confusing to Harry when the older boy had probably been the one to remind Hani to dress appropriately for the weather.

Harry glanced again at the bruise on his friend's arm – there was no denying anymore that he considered them friends – and pursed his lips. With the lip of the sleeve being just shy of the discoloration, it really did make it stand out. The only reason he could see for wearing such short sleeves would be to show of the wound, but that had already been ruled out, so...

"Hani-senpai," Harry started as Mori seemed to be looking for any sign that any of the others were even intending to show up, "he wore a t-shirt so that I would notice the bruise, didn't he?"

"Yup," Hani agreed easily. Too easily in Harry's opinion, but Hani did have his devious moments. "I think Takashi didn't know how to ask for your help, so he made sure you would see it." Harry lifted an eyebrow. It seemed so... out of character for Mori to do something like that. He was a fairly straight-forward guy from what the youngest among the three had observed. "Takashi is just shy. Since he doesn't know what to say, he doesn't talk a lot, and he doesn't know what to say _because_ he doesn't talk a lot."

That was a bit of a revelation. "So he's asking for help without saying a word," Harry murmured, furrowing his brow. "I guess that makes sense. I've noticed he talks more now than he did a few months ago... or at least I'm around more often when he does talk." He leaned a bit further against the cold concrete wall behind him and stared intently at the black blanket of the night sky with the waning gibbous moon hanging high over head. He wondered for a brief moment if Remus was still getting a supply of Wolfsbane, but shoved the thought away. "At least we know that whenever he does talk he means what he says. Honest people are pretty rare in my experience."

At Hani's stifled inhale, Harry felt he might have said a bit much, but he didn't mind it over much and looked down from the sky again at the smaller boy. He flickered a smile and Hani reciprocated.

"Wotcher Harry!" His head whipped around and an honest-to-Merlin grin broke over his face. Harry stepped off the wall and down the sidewalk to the person who had addressed him, Sirius' cousin Tonks (he'd learned the hard way to never call her by her given name). With Remus just a step behind and Sirius and Ranka another behind him, it took all of a millisecond for Harry to realize why Sirius wanted him for dinner. "Good to see you again." Harry wrapped his arms around the young auror. He'd only known her off-and-on for a few months while he and Sirius were in Ireland, but she'd grown on him and helped him cope with the deaths at King's Cross.

"Great to see you, Tonks," Harry grinned as he pulled away and then gave a hug to Remus. Hugs were special things for Harry, since he'd never gotten them as a child except from the odd teacher or the school nurse when he came in with a particularly bad bruise from Dudley. He could count the number of people he had ever hugged with any regularity on one hand – Sirius, Remus, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and Hermione – and that list had only come into existence in the summer before Harry's second year at Hogwarts. He grinned and pulled away from the werewolf. "And you, Professor."

"I've already said you can –" but Harry caught Remus off.

"Call you Remus, or better yet, Moony," Harry recited easily. It had taken two weeks to stop calling the man Professor. "I was just yanking your chain, Remus." He peered from Remus to Tonks and back again. "Have you two gotten together yet?"

"Remie-kins here," Remus winced at Sirius' nickname for him, "is using the same excuses as a year ago, or so my dearest little cousin tells me... 'Too old, too poor, too sick,' he says." Sirius released a snort and pulled a few gold coins from his pocket to stick in the boy's open hand. "Ten galleons, as agreed."

Harry scowled at Remus while pocketing the galleons. "I wasn't supposed to win that bet, you prat," he informed the older man and started leading them over to a curious looking Mori and Hani. "Remus, Tonks, these two are Morinozuka Takashi and Haninozuka Mitsukuni. Mori-senpai, Hani-senpai, the lady with ridiculous hair is Tonks Nymphadora – just stick to her family name, trust me – and the gentleman is Lupin Remus." Hands were shaken, greetings exchanged, and Hani cooed over (Tonks was surprisingly keen on children, though she still found Hani adorable after Harry told her how old the boy actually was).

Everyone arrived, and Harry was more than a little surprised to see Haruhi arriving with Tamaki. He felt he had the right to be surprised, considering the half-Frenchman was supposed to be visiting his home country. When Tamaki seemed shy of telling the tale, Remus revealed that he had met Kyouya earlier in the week and that he knew Tamaki's reason for not going on the school trip, though when asked about anything else Remus said it wasn't his tale to tell and that anyone interested could talk to the youngest Ootori when he returned if they were so curious.

The entire group – all eleven of them – managed to seat themselves in three booths after much shuffling and various attempts to keep it down to two, but those failed since they were three bodies over the capacity of two booths. By the time everything was sorted out, Ranka had permitted – albeit reluctantly – that his daughter could sit with Tamaki and the twins in one booth while the adults all sat together and Harry found himself seated with the two who had kept him company waiting for everyone else. It's funny how the world works, but Harry figured it would be the arrangement that would cause the least hassle. The adults could do without being bothered by excited teenagers (also being able to treat their table as a "double date" sort of situation no matter how much Remus would protest), and if Tamaki or the twins were separated from Haruhi they would complain throughout the entire meal. Harry certainly wouldn't be complaining.

"Would you like me to take the warming charm off?" Harry asked as he easily lifted a plate of some sort of tuna sushi off of the conveyor belt. He cast his gaze directly at Mori, since one could never tell if the silent senior would affirm verbally or visually, though it was usually the latter. It was wise to look at him when having an almost-one-sided conversation with him. The restaurant was small, reasonably busy, and well-heated, and Harry had noticed a bit of sweat beading on the older boy's forehead. When Mori nodded, Harry swished his wand under the table and muttered a quick "Finite Incantatem" which earned a second nod of thanks.

"Harry-chan, are Remus-san and Tonks-san (2) a wizard and witch too?" Hani asked in a hushed tone. He pointed out a plate for Mori to pick up for him and the taller of the two did so almost without looking. Had they been to a conveyor-belt place before?

"Yeah, Tonks is an auror – they're detectives, police, pretty much anything to do with law enforcement outside of the actual court system – and Sirius' second cousin," Harry explained. "Remus went to school with Sirius and my father at Hogwarts and they were all best friends and part of a prankster group that is still talked about over there to this day. Unfortunately, he's rather sickly and his health waxes and wanes on a monthly basis." Which was fully true, as anyone with knowledge of werewolves might attest.

"You said he was a teacher," Mori added in. Harry whipped his head slightly and blinked. When had he mentioned anything of the sort? He certainly hadn't during the introductions so when –? Then he recalled pointing out the people in the pictures at the apartment. He must have mentioned Remus' career then.

"He taught Defense at Hogwarts," Harry elaborated. "Best teacher I ever had for the subject, too. He was also the only one to not intentionally harm any students..." at the inquisitive gazes, Harry decided to continue. "My first year teacher was out to steal something for the leader of the Death Eaters and died at the end of the year. Second year was a fraud who had a thing for erasing people's memories and ended up wiping his own a week before exams were due to begin. My last year there we were supposed to have a legendary ex-auror teach us, but an imposter, a Death Eater, took his place. A student ended up dead that year."

Wide, honey-colored eyes stared up at Harry from across the table and steel-gray narrowed. Harry darted his own gaze down to his food. He had told them before that the wizarding world was a place of unnecessary danger and full of treachery from virtually every angle. Perhaps mentioning the failings and machinations of evil teachers wasn't such a great idea though.

"Don't worry about it," Harry felt he'd said these words, or something similar, far too many times. "Hogwarts has always been a dangerous school, and the teachers are the least of the threats. There isn't a lot of idiot-proofing around there, and it's a _castle_ after all. That whole world is too firmly entrenched in the past to allow itself to change without a full-on revolution. I'm fully content to stay here in Japan for the time being, regardless. Not as many bad memories." He sent both of the boys across from him a smile and returned to his meal.

When everyone was getting ready to leave, Sirius having footed the bill yet again, Harry contemplated how best to ditch Sirius, Remus, and Tonks. He really enjoyed their company and the idea of ditching them made him feel quite morose, but he really had moved out of the flat. Returning wouldn't work if he had taken all of his effects out of the apartment, would it?

He bid good-bye to the Hosts and Ranka – Tamaki was giving Haruhi and Ranka a ride home since they weren't keen on the idea of side-along apparating, plus Tamaki was far too concerned with Haruhi to not be curious (it was too late in the day for Harry to reveal magic to the blond) – and headed off to the apparition point with his guardian, favorite werewolf, and one pink-haired abnormality.

"Harry," Sirius started in, "be sure you visit sometime at least, okay?" Harry stared at him, horrified. How did he -? "I'm not stupid. But just because I'm letting you leave for a while doesn't mean I don't want to see you anymore, got it? We'll have dinner together at least twice a week, spend half of every Saturday together, I get to see where you live and visit at a moment's notice, and if you try to distance yourself further, so help me Merlin I'll set Remus on you."

"What kind of threat is that?" Harry's voice shook slightly. He was such a bloody coward! He was too afraid to even tell his godfather that he was moving out, and then this... he clenched his fists in his jacket pockets, cringing as his nails bit into his palms. His good mood for the evening had evaporated as the meal ended and was sinking ever lower.

"You've never seen Remus in mothering mode," Sirius explained and sent a grin back over his shoulder to Remus and Tonks who were walking a few paces behind them. "One time, when a prank backfired on your father, he was hiding out and didn't tell anyone where he went. Remus went crazy with worry and ended up sniffing him out – literally – before dragging his purple polka-dotted arse out in front of the entire Gryffindor Common Room and laying into him. McGonagall said that that was the reason why she made him prefect."

Harry shuddered. If Remus would do that as a teenager to his dad who had been Remus' best friend who he never stood up to... the idea was mind boggling. More so if Harry thought of what Remus could do now over the child of the man he'd embarrassed so thoroughly. It really was a good threat now that he thought of it, and Remus probably would be able to find him, since he'd been a tracker for Dumbledore's vigilante group during both of Voldemort's reigns (however short the second was).

"Right," sighed the-boy-who-couldn't-die-like-any-normal-person. "I'll keep that in mind I guess. I suppose I'm inviting you all to dinner at my place on Monday, then? We'll figure everything else out later." He was sweating and the nails biting into the soft flesh of his palms was sharper than before. Harry cursed himself mentally one more time for his stupidity and apparated home with a promise to contact the trio.

* * *

Monday the 29th dawned darkly just as any other day in November would. Or, rather, students who had to wake up for school woke in darkness and arrived to school with the sky just starting to gray. They attended classes, gossiped, and did whatever else it was that the rich students of Ouran High School were wont to do. During lunch, one particular group of students known as the Host Club congregated in their club room, the third music room on the top floor of the south building, so that their vice-president (aka Shadow King) could dole out souvenirs.

Coincidentally, Harry Potter could also be found in this room since he wanted to get the revelation of magic out in the open as soon as possible. He was waiting patiently as the second year handed out gifts to the Hosts and had to choke back a laugh at the sight of Mori holding a giant stuffed animal that probably resembled Piyo-chan, though Harry had never seen the chick. Hani's monkey-plush was as big as he was, which Harry also found entertaining.

It was after everyone else had received their gifts that Tamaki was given his, though it came in the form of words that set the boy crying. Remus' words from the other day made much more sense than he suspected they ought to. Apparently, Kyouya had found Tamaki's mother and brought news of her back to his friend which was obviously better than the two-meters tall Eiffel Tower that the blond was anticipating.

"Part of the credit goes to a man whom your guardian sent me to meet, Harry-kun," the young Ootori admitted as Tamaki stood smiling and crying in the middle of the room. "It was a strange coincidence that, when Sirius sent me to deliver a letter to his friend Lupin Remus that the man knew of Tamaki's mother. He took me to meet her the same day that we met. I find that French is a strange language, don't you?" The last comment was... odd, to say the least, but Harry shrugged.

"I'm not so great at it, I'll admit," he agreed. "Not that I'm bad in lessons or anything, but the written... loads of superfluous letters. Why do you ask?"

"Strangest thing," Kyouya commented, "but until I met Lupin-san I couldn't speak more than a few words of French that I picked off of Tamaki. I understood every word that Lupin-san said though. But I suppose that's one of the peculiarities of magic, isn't it?"

If Harry had been eating or drinking anything he could have choked abruptly. Instead his eyebrows shot skyward and his jaw dropped a bit before he shook his head. "Remus let it slip? Seriously? Well, I guess Tamaki-senpai will be the last one to know," when Kyouya raised an eyebrow Harry continued. "Sirius accidentally revealed magic to Haruhi-san, Mori-senpai, Hani-senpai, and Kasanoda-san the same day that you left for France. I explained it properly to them and I was intending to tell you and Tamaki-senpai today, but... well, I guess it won't be necessary to tell you, will it?"

"No, I suppose not," Kyouya stated before leaving Harry at the wall and working to calm Tamaki down enough so that Harry could explain a bit before lunch was over. As it was, he was mildly tempted to invite them to the dinner he was having with Sirius, Remus, and Tonks, but there was a difference between Sirius inviting them or inviting them at Sirius' behest and doing so of his own volition. The twins had been bothering him to get Sirius to drop by and show them that he could, in fact, turn himself into an animal, and he had no doubt they would love Tonks' metamorphamagus abilities. Inviting them at all would be on a whim, and a second last-minute invitation in three days might not be received well.

When everyone was seated, looking expectantly at Harry (though the Frenchman had no idea as to why), Harry stepped off the wall and, whipping out his wand, levitated a chair to join the others. He was feeling too lazy to grab one normally and it wasn't like Tamaki wouldn't want proof. As it was, the blonde was gaping like a fish as everyone watched with interest as the chair was set lightly on the ground.

Kyouya perked an eyebrow and Harry scowled. "Can't I be a bit showy every once in a while?" He grumbled, taking his seat without any real grace. The eyebrow remained raised and Harry just rolled his eyes before directing his attention to the only person in the room who _didn't_ know about magic. "Tamaki-senpai, as I have just demonstrated, magic is real."

Most would consider Suou Tamaki to be the most gullible of all the Hosts, except perhaps for Hani in certain cases. At being told magic was real they would expect Hani to be excited and start asking questions, Tamaki to go all starry eyed, the twins to try and goad that person into proving it, Mori to observe in his usual manner, Kyouya to be skeptical (perhaps even asking if they needed a good psychologist), and for Haruhi to either flat out deny it in the most dead-pan fashion possible or be mildly curious.

It's funny how those stereotypes can be so wrong. While the twins had been skeptical and asked for proof as expected, Hani had been excited, etc, Tamaki was the one who truly deviated and did he ever! He had sat gaping through the entire explanation, a hint of fear in his eyes that Harry couldn't explain. He'd tried to highlight the good points of magic, done a few cute tricks that first years were taught, but they didn't seem to sway the blonde at all.

Fear and a firm denial were not things that Harry expected from the extravagant King.

"What's your problem?" Harry asked as calmly as he could manage.

Of all the Hosts he was the furthest from Tamaki in general, the least likely of them all to really be a "friend." Tamaki hadn't liked Harry much in the earlier months of their acquaintance and the feeling had been mutual since he felt Tamaki was too close to a mix of Draco Malfoy – in his superiority complex – and Sirius – in his general personality – to have as a compatible friend without some work going into it. Tamaki had referred to him simply as "Potter" until he started pitying the younger boy, which made Harry like him even less until they eventually got over their imaginary squabble. They had their differences and Harry usually just pretended there was nothing wrong and while he wouldn't purposefully get into a conversation with the second year, Harry wouldn't avoid him like he might have.

Now the Gryffindor felt that he might have a good reason to start avoiding the blonde if the boy's pallid face as shaking hands were any indication.

"It's... magic can't be real," Tamaki's head was drooping in an uncharacteristic way. It wasn't the waves of depression that tended to surround him when Haruhi said "no" to him or the fear he experienced from time to time for random reasons. He was making himself small, hunching in his chair a bit and his breathing couldn't possibly be that ragged normally. Harry realized that he was crying again.

"And why not? Everyone else in this room has seen and accepted it as reality," Harry protested, keeping his voice as stable as possible. What was going on? First Tamaki was wide-eyed and horrified, and suddenly he was crying as if Harry had killed Antoinette – his dog – or done something equally despicable.

"Magic could have saved Haruhi's mother and could make mine better," Tamaki was standing suddenly his chair fallen to the ground and his hands clenched in tight fists. When someone wants to hide their sorrow, they get angry with whatever they can, and Harry realized that he and magic were the victims of Tamaki's ire now. It was kind of humbling to think about, and Harry took it like a slap to the face. His mother had started the Potter-Evans company to save lives, and it hadn't really flourished until around the time that Harry started at Hogwarts. It was the only source of wizarding medicine in the muggle world outside of a few clinics.

It was a personal insult that Tamaki had made and one that Harry couldn't refute. What could he say to that? He couldn't even really take offense since he felt he deserved it. There was probably a treatment of some sort that would have saved Haruhi's mother which the wizarding world could have provided if they all weren't so stuck up their own arses that they felt they couldn't even try to make the world a marginally better place with their magic for fear of the fallout. It had been years and years, as Ranka had once told Harry, since Haruhi's mother had died.

Perhaps a denial would have been in order, however, as Tamaki ran out the door of the club room with everyone just staring after him. There was really nothing that Harry could do or say that would repair whatever damage might have been done in those moments, even if he didn't know what that damage might be.

"That didn't go at all as planned," Harry murmured before leaning back in his seat and staring at the wide-open doors. He had expected disbelief, confusion, curiosity, maybe even some of the disgust that the Dursleys had for the wizarding world. He had thought that Tamaki would be easily swayed if there were any negative thoughts and that in the end he would be just as accepting as the rest of the Hosts were proving to be. To be so wrong about the older boy shook Harry badly and he wondered just how well he knew Tamaki after all.

When Harry bumped into Kyouya after school he found out that Tamaki hadn't been in any of his classes for the rest of the day and that he wasn't answering his phone. The Vanquisher-of-You-Know-Who had no idea what to think of the development and went home to direct the house elves on what to do to prepare for his guests.

Any good mood that he might have been cultivated over the weekend was soundly quashed.

**Author's Note: In my opinion Tamaki probably would have been the hardest hit by the magic revelation. First, he might jump to thinking of his personal tormentor (Nekozawa) and what the curses might actually do – thus the fear – and then as Harry highlights the good parts – saving lives – he would realize that Haruhi wouldn't have to live alone with her father and that his own mother would have been healthy enough to move to Japan years ago if magical people really cared. Tamaki has a very optimistic outlook of the world and would rather think that Harry was lying to him somehow than believe that anyone could be that heartless as to keep something that could save lives from everyone else just because they were secretive bastards.**

**Brought in Remus and Tonks. I said I would, didn't I? (And it's before chapter 20, even if it has taken forever, so THERE petites sorcieres!) Keep in mind that, HP timeline, this would be only a couple months into sixth year, and Remus and Tonks didn't get together until the end of that school year, so it makes sense that they aren't together **_**yet**_**. I've said this already, but one of the side-pairings is definitely Remus/Tonks because they rock and I will not deny Teddy's existence.**

**Again, if you want to understand what's going on in this chapter from the Ouran-side, read chapters 51-56 of the manga. Romantically-speaking things are deviating from canon Ouran now, though certain events will still be happening as they did in it.**

**It's so hard to actually get two characters together! Whenever I want to do something Harry says no or Mori would be out of character, or I have to stop that idea because it messes with the plot and... yeah. I always knew there was a reason why I've never written romance before, but I'd always figured it was because I've just never gotten far enough into a story for it to happen, but now I see that I was subconsciously dreading having to actually get them together. Getting them to like each other is easy, but everything else... blah.**

(1) Yes, that's what I call Tonks' hair color. I cosplay her and the color my hair is dyed whenever I do it _really_ makes me want to gouge my eyes out. Good cosplay in general though.... I just hate pink.

(2) I figure since they are adults who Hani has only just met, he wouldn't give them nicknames or use "chan". I can't say if that will change in the future, but he calls Sirius "Siri-chan" so it may or may not happen depending on if he gets to see them more than a few times.


	18. Chapter 18

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 18

When Harry apparated to Sirius' flat to pick up the animagus, werewolf, and metamorphamagus for dinner, he wasn't entirely sure if he should be surprised or not when two of the three glomped him. He had become used to being tackle-hugged by Sirius upon arriving at the flat and had already braced himself to keep bruising to a minimum. He wasn't used to having an extra nine stone added into the equation when Tonks tackled him as well and knew that he would have a decent sized bruise on his right thigh and probably his shoulder as well.

Whether or not he was surprised didn't much affect his mood as he extricated himself from the overly-hyper cousins and began side-along apparating them one at a time to the foyer of his as-of-yet unnamed home. Coincidentally, side-along apparating was more unpleasant than normal apparition, so Harry found himself in an even worse mood than before. Instead of making himself care, he led the three into the parlor where he called the Head Elf, Tipsy, to serve them tea while they placed their orders for what they would like for dinner.

"You don't seem to be in a very good mood, Harry," Remus observed when Tipsy returned to the kitchen. Harry "hmm"'d a response and plopped a sugar in his tea. They could help, he knew, but... well, Harry wasn't really the sort to ask for help much. Then again, before he moved out he had never pegged himself as a coward either, and until that very day he'd never pegged Tamaki as the sort to react with fear and anger at the revelation of magic. "Is everything okay?"

"Probably not," Harry admitted and dropped another sugar in his cup. That made six... he wasn't actually going to drink it. He dropped a seventh and started stirring. "I told Tamaki-senpai – he's the half-French one, Tonks – about magic today since everyone else knew and I paid the penalty fee ages ago anyway, but... he didn't take it well. He was afraid and then he got angry."

"If he hurt you –" Sirius started with a growl, but Harry waved the concern away.

"Nothing of the sort," he informed the group. "He just... he was afraid and I told him some of the good things and he got all sad. I dunno how she died... but he thought that magic could have saved Ranka-san's wife. Tamaki-senpai is an idealist in every sense of the word, and as far as I've seen he can't comprehend selfishness or simple human cruelty. So he denied magic's existence, and now... well, he skipped the rest of the classes for the day, so I'm pretty sure he's been raging or something all day. I'm going to try talking to him again tomorrow. You guys have any suggestions?" It actually kind of hurt that he asked for their help, but Harry wanted to be reasonable.

"You could always have him obliviated," Sirius suggested, suddenly liking the Host King less, which was odd considering he'd gotten along famously with all of the Hosts. Harry glared at him.

"_Helpful_ advice, Sirius," Harry grumbled. "He knows now and so do the rest of the Host Club. If I had him obliviated because of a bad reaction, what do you think they might do about it? Plus he really is a good guy behind all that pomp. He'll get over it or he won't, I just want to speed up the process in which ever direction it goes. Hopefully the good one."

"You'll just have to explain the limitations of magic," Tonks posited and swiped Harry's tea from him, exchanging it for her own cup that had a distinct lack of sugar. "And there is no way I'm letting you have this much sugar; you'd go into a coma." She slammed back the tea and gagged as it went down before pouring a fresh cup and treating it properly. "Great Cliodna (1), how much sugar did you dump in that?"

Remus rolled his eyes at the woman. "You didn't know..." he shook his head. "Harry, I'm going to guess that you didn't get far enough in your explanation to tell your friend about the limitations of magic and the inclinations of wizarding folk, so I would suggest that you go up to him tomorrow and explain the failings of the magical world some and make sure you have the rest of your friends about to give him moral support. A lot of parents of muggleborns react the same way when they are told of their child's ability and it's letting such feelings stew for more than a few days that usually leads to abusive situations."

"So he'll just end up hating me," Harry felt that he could live with that. True, he'd been coming to like Tamaki, but having the older boy hate him would be one less tie that the Death Eaters would know to pluck whenever they decided to make their move. Would they harm someone who clearly hated him in an attempt to get at him? It didn't seem like something that would make much sense, but from what Harry had read, a lot of Death Eaters had escaped from Azkaban in late July and all promptly disappeared, and Harry figured they had all made their way to Japan since he had seen three of those escaped Death Eaters and Sirius had seen two. Azkaban prisoners weren't known for their sanity and logic; just look at Sirius.

Dinner passed smoothly thereafter, and Harry forced himself to laugh whenever Tonks would change her appearance for seemingly no reason. Tipsy, Dinky, and Rory, Harry's house-elf team that were normally assigned to work at whatever home the head of House Potter was staying at, were nearly as bouncy and eccentric as Dobby, and spent an hour pressing extra food onto Remus, Sirius, and Tonks since cooking for just Harry and the squib staff – who dealt with landscaping and things that the elves couldn't do – wasn't as intensive as they would like. All the while, Harry was contemplating his next move, knowing that whatever he decided would likely not be how things went and more likely than not he would just be winging it.

Still, the security of a plan did make him sleep better that night, the still-fat moon hanging high over his head and a fat envelope sitting on his dresser.

The next day Harry found himself cornered by none other than his club president during lunch when he'd been intending to corner the secret-blond's favorite second-year. Most people probably would have screamed bloody murder when they were suddenly dragged off without warning by a figure in black. Harry tensed for half a second before he noticed the style of cloak and followed along willingly.

"Nekozawa-senpai, couldn't this have waited until the meeting after school?" Harry sighed as he was dragged into a dark – but thankfully large – room by the cat-obsessed senior. "I was going to –"

"Ootori-kun requested for us to help with the Host Club's events for today," Nekozawa interrupted, "so we don't have Black Magic Club today. You, Kanazuki-kun, and myself will be doing fortune telling for them. He also informed me of Suou-kun's bad reaction to your revelation yesterday, so this should give you a chance to do something instead of making him skiv off the rest of classes again. Kukukuku... we've never had _permission_ to terrorize the Hosts before. I wonder how that will go?" The dark smirk on his face made Harry roll his eyes.

Still, it was a solid plan compared to the skeleton one that he had made the night before. "Alright. Standard set up I'm guessing?" The Standard Black Magic Club Fortune Telling Package – not that anyone ever asked for it – involved reading tea leaves (or coffee dregs), palm readings, tarot, crystal gazing, a bit of astrology, and a dream interpretation. Each club member kept their various devices at home though, and Harry didn't have anyone to bring him his unless he wanted to ask one of the groundskeepers to bring his crystal ball and he found the idea demeaning. Just like muggle food exploded when a wizard apparated, crystal balls would shatter if a house-elf apparated them, so he had to retrieve it himself. Any tarot readings would have to be left up to Nekozawa and Kanazuki.

"Unless specified otherwise," Bereznoff nodded and rubbed his cloth-paws together at Nekozawa's statement. The little puppet still creeped Harry out. "See you after school, Potter-kun." Nekozawa flitted out of the room to do Merlin only knew what while Harry apparated to the arrival room at his home and retrieved his crystal ball. It was a small one, hardly larger than the pocket sneak-o-scope that Ron had sent him for his thirteenth birthday (said sneak-o-scope was, of course, no longer in his possession), but he could occasionally get something out of it. Harry preferred the parts of Divination that didn't actually require any Seer's talent, but this was good enough.

After school Harry met up with Kanazuki and Nekozawa in front of the Black Magic Club Room in the North basement to make sure they had everything ready. Kanazuki had been happier in the past weeks, something Harry attributed to her spending copious amounts of time in the company of one Haninozuka Mitsukuni (as if anyone could NOT be happy around him), and Nekozawa was practically bouncing as he plotted ways to scare the Hosts' customers and Tamaki in particular.

When they opened the door to the Third Music Room, Harry was surprised to note how completely over the top the Hosts had gone this time. The Arabian theme was quite notable, too. He shook his head and entered the room, idly swirling the small crystal between his fingers. He and Sirius had seen a film called "Labyrinth" (2) and the bad guy had done the same thing, prompting Sirius to perfect the action and try to teach Harry to do it as well. He had to admit that, though it was difficult at first it was kind of fun and after much prodding he could do it pretty well.

The sight of Hikaru and Kaoru watching it with wide eyes, entranced by the small crystal ball, was kind of funny, too. He stopped swirling the ball and pocketed it with a casual gesture and nodded to the pair. "Good afternoon Hikaru-kun, Kaoru-kun." It was the first time he'd ever used the "-kun" suffix for any of the Hosts, so the twins wee suitably surprised. "Nice set up you've got here today. Arabian Nights theme?"

"Uh, yeah," Hikaru blinked himself out of his stupor and leaned heavily on his younger twin with a sigh. "Tono is going to be a sultan and leaving us, his poor subjects, to be practically _plebeians_! Can you believe that, Harry-kun?" At Harry's eye-roll, he stood up properly and huffed before leaving to finish getting into his costume.

"Why are you guys here, anyway? Not that we're not used to seeing any of you individually, but..." Kaoru flicked his eyes to each of the three Black Magic members who were present with a shrug. Kyouya appeared from nowhere – Harry again wondered if he had bought a pocket dimension so he could do stuff like this – to answer.

"I called them in to do some fortune telling for our customers today," he explained as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "Tamaki wanted to bring someone in to do it when we were originally discussing using this theme since such things are popular in Turkey. He rescinded the idea yesterday when I brought it up, but I believe some palmistry and tea readings should improve the experience for our clients over all and may bring in more guests than normal. Of course, after the weeklong break, and this being our first day back to Hosting, we should already have an increased profit." Harry wasn't sure whether to attribute the devious smile to the older boy's plotting or something else altogether.

"Our standard set is, of course, quite a draw," Nekozawa put in and he was only stretching the truth a bit. Technically, if people weren't so freaked out by Nekozawa they would probably get visitors who wanted fortune telling done, even if only in jest. However, _everyone_ was afraid of Nekozawa, and by extension just about the rest of the club (except Harry because he didn't really _do_ anything), so they never really did get to do anything of the sort which was rather unfortunate since most of the club members were actually pretty good at Divination. "Which services will you be requiring?"

"Reading coffee dregs and tea leaves, of course, and palmistry as I said," Kyouya listed. "Also, crystal readings as Harry-kun has obviously brought a crystal ball with him. Do you have any suggestions for other methods? I'm afraid I'm not well versed in magic in general, and I'm not sure which fields would work at all." The last comment put Harry slightly on edge. It wasn't like Kyouya to admit a failing so freely.

"Kanazuki-kun excels in the reading of tarot cards," was Nekozawa's reply. It was, surprisingly, not creepy; probably because of the non-mocking interest being shown. "Telling the future using dreams is also a good method." He listed other methods that were not part of the standard that all of the club could do, including throwing bones, curling smoke – from incense or candles – and a few Harry had never even heard of. He'd never put much stock in Divination, though he'd been witness to one Prophecy and – if one believed Voldemort and Dumbledore – had been the subject of another. It was no surprise that he didn't know most of the techniques that Nekozawa was listing.

"I see there are many ways to tell the future," Kyouya nodded slowly, a small smirk dancing across his lips. "But I would guess you all know best, don't you? You can just give the clients some options and go from there. Doors open in ten minutes." Without any further ado, Kyouya turned on his heel and walked back to the dressing area, jotting notes in his notebook as he went.

However, before everything opened up for the day, Harry had something to deliver to Tamaki. Technically it was from Remus, a thick envelope that the werewolf had given him the night before to hand over to Tamaki as a sort of "hope you don't dislike magic that much" kind of gift. Out of respect for the blond, Harry hadn't opened the envelope to peek at what it was, but he was curious.

"Tamaki-senpai," Harry addressed as he crossed the room, "this is for you." He held out the envelope which was taken by a curious hand and watched as it was flicked open. Harry honestly had no idea what was in it beyond Remus' vague answer of "photos for Tamaki," though he had his suspicions. Suspicions that were proved correct.

"Where did you get these?" Tamaki asked in shock as he held the first picture mere inches from his face, a sort of happy/sad look on his face as if he couldn't decide whether to cry or smile. Harry caught a glimpse and saw a blonde woman sitting in a garden and waving.

"Remus gave them to me," Harry answered. "He told me to give those to you, though I didn't know what they were until now. Wizarding photographs, I would guess they're of your mother? She's very pretty."

Tamaki nodded and sat down in a nearby chair before spreading all the photos – twenty of them – on a table and looking at them in awe. One had the woman playing fetch with a dog that looked like Tamaki's, and another had her puttering about in a small kitchen and occasionally looking at the camera and laughing. If Harry hadn't known that Remus had helped Kyouya find Tamaki's mother, he would have been more surprised. As it was, he was wondering how Remus had taken them to begin with.

"They move," Tamaki murmured, running a finger over face of his mother in one of the least mobile pictures of his mother, reading in the same garden as the first picture. "They move just like she does." Harry remained silent and retreated from the older boy. So that had been Remus' plan... Harry had just been intending to sit him down for another talk, but the combination of Kyouya's machinations and Remus' forethought was much better than his own half-baked ideas.

The last few minutes before the Club opened ended up being spent in Harry's study room – though, since he now had a quiet, not to mention empty, house to study in, it was likely that he wouldn't ever use the room again – and waiting for the main part of the room to fill up a bit. Nekozawa wanted to freak the girls out right off the bat, but Harry was a kinder soul and convinced him to not do anything _too_ drastic. As it was, if anyone actually were to request a reading without it being specifically offered first, they wouldn't be asking the senior.

Five minutes after the doors were opened, the Black Magic Club representatives exited the room since Harry knew from experience that the first wave of girls would be seated by that point. Their presence drew attention immediately, since it was hard NOT to miss them. Kanazuki, though a regular to the club for the past two months, looked rather out of place with her cloak on, and Nekozawa always set people on edge. Harry, when present, had never interacted with the clientele, so naturally his appearing with the intent to do so – and while playing with his crystal ball no less – was bound to draw a few eyes.

"I see our fortune tellers have arrived," Kyouya announced from the place where he was entertaining a small cluster of girls. "Ladies, may I have the pleasure of informing you all that we have three seasoned practitioners of the divining arts to reveal some of what the future has in store. They will be moving about today and offering their services, and they will be sure to behave themselves." At this last statement, Harry noted an imperceptible shiver shaking Nekozawa. So much for terrorizing them, then.

Nekozawa gravitated over to his favorite target, Tamaki, who didn't look at all happy to see him there while Kanazuki went off to visit with Hani. Harry sighed and decided to start his readings with the twins. By the time the next two hours had passed he knew he would have visited each table anyway, so it really didn't matter where he started.

"Harry-kun, you're distracting us!" Hikaru whined and took a swipe at Harry's crystal ball, which he deftly avoided and pocketed the ball yet again. He hadn't even really realized he was still playing with it anyway. "So, what do you have in store for our guests?"

"Hikaru! You're ignoring me!" Kaoru pouted and then a small gush of "Kyaa!" broke out among their customers as the girls watched the boys at their twincest act without any compunctions. Harry just sent them a small smile as if they hadn't just turned his arrival into an opportunity to make their customers deafen him and explained the modes of divination he was offering to show the group.

"Naturally, I can do tea readings – or, as the case may be, reading the dregs of your coffee – and palm readings," he began without any hesitation. A professional approach, since that was what he was pretending to be, was the best one in Harry's opinion. "I can also look into my crystal ball," he pulled it out again but didn't play with it, "and dream interpretations. Star charts and astrology are also within my realm of expertise." If two years of Divination and a few hours spent going over such things with his club could be considered "expertise."

After "selling his wares" as it were to the group of girls – most of them just wanted a palm reading, though one did ask for a dream interpretation and another wanted him to read her coffee – Harry moved onto Kyouya's group, then some girls who were not yet seated with any Hosts and were waiting for an opening, and so on and so forth. After having a pleasant reading with Haruhi's third round of girls – normally they were only meant to have that many in a day, but due to the increase in customers that day they were all pulling five groups – Harry finally ended up confronting Tamaki since his current cluster (even he couldn't do individuals that day) seemed interested in some readings.

"Good afternoon ladies, Tamaki-senpai," he gave a small bow and a smile to the group, though he was starting to wear out. After spending an hour and a half walking around the room and doing divination, he could do with something to drink and a moment to rest his legs. No rest for the wicked, as they say. "Might I interest you in some palm readings, or perhaps I could search for meaning in your coffee? Any interesting dreams you want to know the meaning of, perhaps?" He had varied his greetings from table to table and found that offering his services in this manner was better received and got him a bit of variety in the requests.

Things seemed to be going swimmingly. If one ignored the fact that Tamaki was pretending Harry didn't even exist, that is. While Harry read the palm or coffee or anything of a girl, Tamaki would enchant the rest until Harry had taken care of them all. Actually, Tamaki seemed to be running on a sort of autopilot, likely thinking of the pictures of his mother. Harry was prepared to get up and head off to another group of girls to keep them entertained while they waited for their chosen Host to open up a slot, but Tamaki's guests had other ideas.

"Tamaki-sama!" One of the girls said happily, "you should get your palm read as well, don't you think? I would be so interested to see what your love line says!" The rest of the girls caught on quickly and stared pestering Tamaki until he acquiesced and beckoned Harry over to him. Said wizard too his hand easily and held it a few inches from his face as he scanned the appendage.

"You're have Air Hands," he stated to start. He glanced at Tamaki to catch a confused glance and continued to explain. "Those with Air Hands are cheerful people, personable, and often go into the communication industry, or do well in jobs involving social interaction. They have a love for travel and have a low tolerance for boredom. Of course, that's just what I've found from the shape of your hand. Your fate line is strong, so I don't doubt you've already found your path in life, or if you haven't you will soon. Your Apollo line springs up early in the fate line, so your talents are going to be recognized early in life as well.

"Your life line is wide, indicating an active life and it moves outward, showing again your love for travel. These deep lines near your thumb show that you will have many trips with important emotional bonds in your life. Your head line 'floats' meaning your mind is very open." He smiled at the girls. "But the ladies wanted to know about your heart line, didn't they? I suppose I ought to indulge them. It is curved under your index finger, which means that you are aggressive in your love life and choosy about your partner. Subconsciously, if you want someone you will make it known." (3)

Harry released Tamaki's hand with a smile and bowed again to the crowd of girls around Tamaki while he squinted at his hand. "How do you make all of that out from a bunch of little lines?" He asked curiously. As if he wasn't mad at Harry for the whole magic-thing the day before. "All I see are lines running over my hands."

"Palmistry is an art that originates from India and has roots all over the world," Harry explained. Even if Trelawney was a bad teacher, she did make sure they knew the history of what they were learning as well as the methodology. Her own methods were questionable at best. "The art of palm reading has been honed over thousands of years so that those who learn it can gain greater insight than when it began. So, while all you see are a 'bunch of little lines,' I see a window to your soul. Of course, Kokubunji-san is more knowledgeable than I am on the subject, but I know enough."

"Oh," Tamaki still hadn't looked up from his hand. "That's... kind of interesting, I suppose." Then he went back to his guests who were absolutely enthused after hearing his reading and Harry blinked owlishly before shrugging and going to do some readings for the clients who were as-of-yet not being entertained.

Half an hour before the buildings were to be closed off for the night, the Host Club's customers were shown out for the day, the main draw (Tamaki) long since gone for some meeting with his father, and Harry noted a very smug look on Kyouya's face. He couldn't help but ask precisely _why_ he was so pleased.

"We had a twelve percent increase in designations beyond those I had anticipated," the young Ootori informed Harry with a small smirk that added to the aura of satisfaction that blossomed around the older boy. The only time when he could be _proud_ of being wrong was in cases such as these, Harry supposed, though he was surprised. Twelve percent? Maybe he'd overestimated Nekozawa's creepy factor.

"Well, congratulations, I suppose," Harry shrugged and pulled his crystal ball out of his pocket again. When Sirius had him doing this to start out with, he'd found it inane, but it did help his reaction time a bit, and he was better at it than Sirius in general by virtue of being a seeker. Harry opted to get away from the Shadow King with the ball weaving over his hand and though it was about time to grab his bag and leave since he wanted to go to Sirius' flat for a while. Remus and Tonks were only there through the end of the week before they both had to get back to work after all (a week off at such short notice had them both in a slightly tight spot to begin with).

Harry started walking across the room to the side room, making a mental note to thank Remus on Tamaki's behalf as soon as he got to Sirius' flat. The firm click of shoes on tile and a hand on his shoulder made Harry aware of the fact that someone wanted his attention. He didn't even have to turn around to know who it was, since he knew that only one person would approach him silently and only two would casually touch him.

"Yes, Mori-senpai?" Harry asked as he turned his head, halting his own steps. "Can I help you?" Now that he thought about it, Harry had actually spent a fair amount of time in the presence of the Hosts, Mori and Hani in particular – or at least they were the ones he was around without the entire club being present – and he hadn't found the time to visit their table all afternoon since Kanazuki had been there throughout pretty much the entire time and he had been needed elsewhere.

Mori lifted his hand from Harry shoulder and let a small smile twitch on his lips, almost as if he was reading where Harry's mind was going. "Palm reading?" And, indeed, his hand was palm up, ready and waiting to get a reading that everyone else – minus Hani – had already received from Harry.

The young wizard couldn't help but laugh a little. Months ago he had been intent on not going beyond being casual acquaintances with anyone and now he was friends with a group as strange as the Host Club. He hadn't wanted friends, hadn't needed them, and he already knew he'd been slowly going insane without them, and here they all were. He smiled up at the oldest Host.

"Sure thing, Mori-senpai," he nodded readily and led Mori over to a couch so they wouldn't have to do it standing up. He'd been doing readings all day; what was one more? Besides, he was kind of curious to see what Mori's hands would say about him. "I could only give quick readings earlier, but I have time to give you a long one, I think. Give me your dominant hand first. The dominant hand symbolizes the present and future and the other is more about your past, whether that's personal or a past life."

Cradling Mori's hand and both of his own, Harry started his work, informing the older boy of what he found as he went. He was an Earth Handed person, so he was grounded, stable, and generally the sort of person who would always be there as well as being good with his hands. His index finger was slightly shorter than was proportional, meaning he was shy – as Hani had said a few days before – and an introvert, and his pinky was longer than average meaning he had a high IQ. His thumb was long and of average width, proving he had determination and drive, but he was likely to still hold back if he felt it wasn't necessary to give his all. The whorling shape to his prints meant he was trustworthy and an individual. (3)

After giving the details of general hand shape and fingerprints, Harry noticed something which caused him to chuckle a bit. "Unless you go about saving lives as a matter of course, then I suppose I really do owe you a life-debt, Senpai," Harry informed the older boy and pointed to two lines on the palm that formed a small cross. "St. Andrew's Cross means that you saved someone's life.

"Let's see... you've got strong Union Lines, though that's a given. It means you have a string relationship of some sort, and since you're so close to Hani-senpai it's no surprise. Your fate line starts all the way at the bottom of your hand, so you've been set on your path for a while now, and the Apollo pops up fairly early, too. Your life line is no surprise either; wide-swinging and branching off to all the major sectors of the hand so you should be quite successful in your endeavors. Not only that, but your Head line is pretty good too. Long, deep, and straight, so you have a clear, in-depth thought process and a strong memory which will lead you to academic success." (3)

Harry glanced up at Mori for the first time since he started and noticed that the older boy looked sufficiently surprised. To Harry's experience, everything seemed fairly accurate. At least, nothing was striking him as being _in_accurate, but who was to say? It wasn't just Mori's surprise that struck him, however, but the fact that the hosts had clustered around without him noticing to watch him give Mori his reading.

"Um... yes?" He asked, blinking owlishly at the assembled Hosts.

"Can you really tell that much from a person's hands?" Haruhi asked curiously, looking at her own hand in front of her face in a manner reminiscent of the way that Tamaki had been after his own reading.

"Yup," Harry replied. "The future isn't defined by the hands though because, as many Seers have been known to say, 'the future is shaped by your own two hands and not the other way around.' In my opinion, it's a better policy than a lot of people who depend on prediction have. It's not concrete. We get a guideline and it's shaped, you know?" No matter what Trelawney the half-fraud said, Harry had read a few passages outside of the assigned reading that stated that teaching Sight as the end-all be-all was total shit.

"Harry-chan, finish reading Takashi's hand! I want you to do me next, okay?" Hani asked. His large brown eyes shone up at Harry in a very good imitation of Sirius' own puppy-dog eyes (it's hard to beat the genuine article). Harry blinked at the sudden request as he'd been half-expecting for them to ask him more questions about the reading process. "You still have to tell him what his heart line says, right?"

"Right," Harry nodded at the diminutive Host and turned his attention back to the hand that rested easily in his own. "Your line is straight for the most part, meaning that you're passive when pursuing a relationship, but since it curves here it shows that, when you're in a relationship, you'll be more noticeable in your affections." That was the only way he could put it that didn't involve stuttering and blushing since the curve he was talking about actually referred to Mori's sex drive, which was probably _not_ something to be mentioned in polite company, if at all. "It ends under the index finger, so you're particular about the partner you'll go after. All in all, whatever girl catches your attention will be very lucky indeed, Senpai." (3)

Mori's hand slipped from Harry's and the older nodded. "Thank you," he stated calmly and flexed his hand a few times (which was understandable since Harry had had his hand for a good five minutes at least, and Mori hadn't let it twitch more than a few times when Harry traced the lines of his hand).

"Me next!" Hani plopped himself in a chair next to the couch that Harry and Mori were sitting in and Harry had to bend over the arm of the couch to catch the small hand in his. It wasn't half as comfortable as reading Mori's hand.

Half an hour later Harry could be found at Sirius' apartment, thinking that, even though basically _all_ of the plans he'd been attempting to make over the past months had failed on him (he never had been a good strategist), this wasn't a bad way to start the last month of the year.

**Author's Note: Know what sucks? When you've got a scene stuck in your head that you know won't be coming for a while but you really want to write it. That's what I've got going on now, but I write start to finish, not odd spots in between. I can plot random parts, of course, but if I write a bit ahead of when it's to be written then I can't write the stuff in between. It's annoying! I had to tide myself over for the squee moment I've got floating in my skull with the palm reading. I figured Harry getting to know Mori through his hands would be an interesting change-up compared to how most people go about these things, especially since Mori really doesn't talk much.**

**Odd note of the day: Squee and Kyaa are in my dictionary on Word. Oh, and have you seen my icon? Seriously, it's awesome. Go see it.**

(1) Cliodna, pronounced Cleev-na, is an Irish/Celtic goddess of beauty, the oldest daughter of the last Druid. She even has a frog card (in real life... have any of you ever had a chocolate frog? They're tasty!). I figure everyone has their own ancient witch or wizard or whatever whom they swear by. So far in this story I've used Circe, Merlin, and Cliodna.

(2) Freaking AWESOME movie. If you haven't seen it, you really should. David Bowie for the win! **:**D There is no point behind Harry being able to do the crystal tricks that they had the extra hands doing other than the fact that I LOVE Labyrinth. Plus, you know, he's a seeker, so he has good hand-eye coordination, right? And Sirius would totally see "Jareth" doing it and decide he wants to too.

(3) Palmistry information from: www (dot) paralumun (dot) com (slash) palmistry (dot) htm


	19. Chapter 19

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter. 

**Big Edit on this chapter: Almost a year after writing it, the author looked back and was like "what the hell?" The first scene was heavily edited on July 16th, 2009 because it really needed it. She apologizes to the 4,233 people who read it before editing. Seriously, Stalker (me) had no idea what was going on in her head, but blames it on this being written the same day she found out her class schedule for her Junior year of high school (chapter published September 1, 2008) She ccouldn't change it completely, but at least it makes sense now XP**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 19

Remus and Tonks had gone back to France and England respectively at the end of the first week of December, and Harry felt oddly peaceful. He had dealt with the situation of whether or not he would still study in the club room – in that he would since, if he studied at home, Tipsy would pester him every five minutes asking "If Master Harry Potter, sir, would like some refreshments" – and found that, even though he failed completely at cutting ties with _anyone_, he was rather content living as he was. Living with Sirius had been taxing on his mental stability and grade point average, but living in his own home had all the perks of knowing Sirius and none of the drawbacks.

Except that he, and everyone else who Harry associated with, were prominent targets to Malfoy and the other Death Eaters in Japan. According to a recent article in the Japanese wizarding papers, there were at least a dozen Death Eaters who had been seen in various parts of the country, but as of yet the only incident of note was the Halloween attacks. No deaths, few injuries - all offsite, and considerable property damage. Even a month later, the magical world was on edge.

So, while Harry was comfortable with his current lifestyle and worried over what might be done to those he cared for, he still hadn't had the chance to sit down and have a chat with Tamaki. The Host King was, for all intents and purposes, too busy for anything of the sort. He had meetings with his father every evening at six, preparations for the Club for the first hour after school, the Club itself, and during lunch he simply could not be taken away from where he sat with the rest of the Hosts every day. Harry had even talked to Kyouya, but there was no conceivable way he could talk to Tamaki during the school week...

Until the second Tuesday of December when Haruhi wasn't going to be at the club for the day and Tamaki could be found moping in the club room. Somehow, news of his morose attitude had spread to Nekozawa, who wanted to torment him instead of holding club. Harry convinced him otherwise and entered the Third Music Room with merely a knock, completely ignoring the sign on the door saying that the Host Club was closed for the day. He'd never minded it before and he wasn't going to now.

The scene seemed oddly familiar, as he noted that Hani was eating cake with Mori in their usual area (well, Mori wasn't eating cake; he had turned his head to look at Harry as he entered, but Mori had obviously been watching over his cousin, not eating cake), Tamaki was in super-turtle-moping mode (which Harry found entertaining because, for some reason, Haruhi had picked the cosplay for the coming Thursday (1) and on the role-sheet it listed Tamaki as the turtle from Urashima Taro (2)), Kyouya was clicking away at his computer, and the twins were lounging, playing a game of catch with the little tanuki-bank that was being used to reward Hikaru for good behavior. It struck Harry that it was similar to the prelude to the game of Hide-and-Seek that ended with him fainting in a closet.

"Afternoon," he greeted the Hosts easily as the door clicked shut behind him. Various greetings came from around the room as everyone entertained themselves, and Harry almost wondered why they were even staying after school since they weren't doing anything and all seemed extremely bored. Almost, because if he did wonder they might all leave, and this was the first opportunity Harry had had to confront Tamaki.

Although, he _didn't_ have any real plan on what to say, since he'd been more concerned with actually getting to the point of conversation with the older boy. Indeed, he didn't even have any ideas on how to start a conversation on magic with such circumstances.

"Are you finally going to talk some sense into Tono?" Kaoru asked as he tossed the tanuki-bank across to Hikaru who caught it and passed it back as if the thing weren't as awkward to throw as it undoubtedly was. The chink of 100 yen coins was kind of distracting.

"Yeah, Kyouya-senpai already talked to him, but you should still say something, Harry-kun," Hikaru put in. He looked a bit miffed over something, but Harry assumed it had to do with Haruhi not recognizing his affections or some such. Not that she realized that any guy liked her even though half of the club was pretty much in love with her. It was amazing how thick some people could be.

"Er... yeah," Harry cringed slightly. Was he that transparent? Though the fact that Kyoya had already talked to Tamaki on the subject of magic was curious and made Harry twitch a small smile into being. He glanced at Tamaki who either was too busy moping to pay attention to his surroundings or else he was pretending to have not heard. "Tamaki-senpai?"

"I shouldn't blame you because you couldn't have done anything because you were just a kid too, humans are evil creatures, and magic can't do everything," Tamaki grumbled, peeking up from his knees. "Kyouya drilled that into my head over the weekend." Which rather explained his depressed attitude the past two days, actually, if Kyouya had destroyed his faith in humanity so thoroughly. "So you don't have to say anything."

"Well, you have two parts of that right, I guess," Harry grimaced openly. Way to make a guy want to give up! "I couldn't have done anything since I didn't even know about magic yet, let alone you lot, and magic has some major limitations like we can't conjure food – otherwise world hunger would be no problem – or bring back the dead; if that were the case I wouldn't be an orphan, would I? But please excuse Kyouya-senpai's cynicism. Not all humans are bad, obviously. It's just... wizarding society is really corrupt."

Tamaki – though still in turtle-position – lifted his head from his knees and blinked owlishly at Harry. "That's not a very nice thing to say about your world," he pointed out, causing Harry to smile slightly. So his faith in humanity wasn't totally shattered. Good.

"Well... it's the truth," he shook his head. "While the wizarding world has been opening up a lot more to the idea, generally it's accepted in magical cultures that wizards are a race unto themselves and that not caring for muggles - that's normal people - is perfectly okay. And racism is really common too, since traditional families count magical children from mugle families as being aberrations; some cultures still believe that muggleborns stole their magic from squibs! A lot of muggleborns have to try and get jobs in the muggle world because wizard-born people are considered a higher caste. The lucky ones get research jobs where they don't get any recognition for their discoveries and end up living on a low salary while doing amazing things behind the scenes. Their children are raised as wizards who continue the cycle. Wizards from wizarding families tend to be too lazy to even reach up to a shelf for a cup, let alone use their gift to help others, and too arrogant to let it cross their minds. It's a backwards society, but... well, we are getting better."

Tamaki nodded, resting his chin on his knees instead of hiding behind them now. "That's what your company does, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry affirmed, "my mother (3) was a muggleborn witch who started a medical company just before she and my father married. You could say we're one of the first honest to Merlin equal opportunity employers in the wizarding world, and it's pretty much the only potions company out there that actually gives credit where it's due instead of just tossing on a company name. We're also the only large-scale supplier of life-saving potions to the muggle world; some smaller ones exist, but those are mostly 'medicine men' and the like in small villages. My mum believed that if you can save a life, you should save a life, never mind if you're using magic or not, and it's a policy that really ought to be adopted by the rest of the world, in my opinion. Still, one at a time, you know?" He'd expected yelling again or maybe a punch in the face. Harry wasn't sure that he preferred Tamaki taking this so calmly.

Harry also noted with some distaste how smarmy his little speeches sounded, but he kept those thoughts to himself.

All the while, the twins played catch, Kyouya typed, Hani ate cake, and Mori observed as if nothing was going on outside their little bubbles.

"By the way, why is the club closed today?" Harry knew that Haruhi wasn't going to show up just like the rest of them did. She'd said as much the day before, but Harry had never caught the reason, so he was a bit curious. Apparently it wasn't a good question, since Tamaki sank further into his pit-of-despair (TM) and Hikaru scowled, throwing the tanuki with too much force to his brother.

"Haruhi is studying for her English exam tomorrow," Kyouya responded without looking up from the glow of his laptop. "She said she wasn't entirely certain of her conjugation and wanted to get some external help, so she is getting tutoring today." Harry wondered who she was getting tutoring from, since she obviously hadn't come to him. Kind of odd since he and Sirius were completely fluent in English. "It seems Casanova-kun offered his services in that area."

Harry was quite surprised by that and could only nod and gave a distracted "right" to the end of the statement. So weird.

"I'll see you lot later then," Harry sighed. "I have to get back to the North building before Nekozawa-senpai decides to come pester you, and I still have to shop for that ski-trip thing. See you tomorrow." He waved and left the room to a chorus of "good bye"s.

* * *

At the end of the week, the last day before all of class 1-A would be heading into the mountains for a ski trip (Harry knew that the fact that it was a class trip wouldn't stop the rest of the Host Club from coming along for the fun) and the last day of school before the winter vacation, Harry was mesmerized by how _normal_ everything was. Most of the school still ignored him – minus a few girls who asked for palm readings after hearing about them from their friends who visited the Host Club – and the Hosts were very calm about the whole "magic" thing in general, so much so that Harry almost wondered if they were faking it. Even Sirius was being pretty tame!

Still, ten minutes after he had arrived home from school, Harry received a text message. Not that this was odd, per se, considering it was the main method of communication between himself and Sirius, but more who had sent him the message. Although Harry had ended up exchanging numbers with the Hosts a few weeks ago "for convenience's sake" (4), he'd only been called by any of them a few times (usually just the twins calling to annoy him), and only the odd text message with the purpose of disrupting class was really considered normal. To find his phone singing a song about cake – the ringtone Hani had insisted be tied to his own calls on anyone's phone – was rather surprising.

"Good afternoon, Hani-senpai," Harry said into the phone as he flicked it open and put it on speaker. He was packing a pair of duffle bags with clothes and such that he would need for the ski trip and was going to actually buy skis in the morning on his way there.

"Hi Harry-chan!" Hani's voice came out at its usual level from the phone, chipper and sounding like any little kid. "Can you come to the Club Room, _please_?"

"Sure, but why?" Harry folded a sweater as he said this and tossed it into a bag. It was a bit of an odd request. True, school had only ended about fifteen minutes beforehand, but everyone's cars were always quite prompt. He expected everyone to have been on their ways home by now.

"You'll see. And can you bring your potions?" That rang alarm bells in Harry's head and he agreed, dropping the slacks he'd been packing and taking less than a minute to be ready to leave. With an order to Tipsy to not touch anything in his room (the elf was nearly as eccentric as Dobby and had taken an interest in Harry's packing, which couldn't be a good sign) or, if Sirius came by, to not let _him_ touch Harry's packing, Harry apparated to the little study room and unlocked the door with a tap of his wand.

Upon entering the main part of the music room, Harry was met with the sight of Hani and Mori looking a little worse for wear. Hani was sitting in his regular couch, eating a cake while Mori sat in a windowsill watching the light snowfall (sadly, it wasn't going to stick as it wasn't cold enough), both acting as if nothing was wrong. Hani tucked a bite of cake into his mouth, having not noticed Harry yet (Mori had), and rubbed his bicep lightly through the material of his uniform shirt that all boys (and Haruhi) had to wear, the jacket discarded on the back of his couch. A dark blotch of purple was visible beneath the shirt – obviously a bruise – and a thin cut was visible on his cheek, though it wasn't deep enough to bleed as it showed only as a thin, red line.

Mori, on the other hand, looked like he had lost a fight. His left eye was almost swollen shut by a real shiner of a black eye, and a cut on his forehead – deeper than Hani's but not by much – and his wrist had already been bound in a makeshift splint. Not only that, but Mori had a sort of resigned air about him and even though his eyes clicked to Harry when he entered, Mori looked to be avoiding looking at his cousin, which was _very_ strange given who the pair were.

It's amazing what can happen in the space of fifteen minutes.

"What happened to you two?" Harry gaped as he hurried over, already opening the flap of his bag to find the bruise balm and cut-sealing salve (it came out of a tube like toothpaste). Mori's wrist could wait a few minutes while Harry tried to remember the diagnostic spell that would tell him if the wrist was broken, sprained, or pretty much alright. If it _was_ broken, there wasn't exactly much he could do for the older boy except give him a pain potion and maybe take him to a Healer. Unfortunately, his license was only for the "first-aid" potions and didn't extend to actual medi-magic that Healers used, but he did have a couple potions that could heal a sprain.

"Takashi and I got in a fight," Hani chirped between bites of cake. He had only looked up at Harry's proclamation, calmly chewing his cake before responding. Harry was going to ask who they were fighting so he could let off a portable swamp in their house, but didn't have the chance. "I won, but Takashi and I both got hurt..." Hani's expression was one of guilt and his eyes were brimming with tears while Harry could only gape. They did that to _each other_? "You can fix him, right Harry-chan?"

"Of course!" Harry answered swiftly. He didn't need to deal with an tears mixing with the cut on Hani's cheek or else it might effect the sealant, and so cut off the smaller boy's worry before any tears could spill over. "I can heal you both up good as new, I promise! I'll have to cast a diagnostic charm on Mori-senpai's wrist to make sure I can since I'm not licensed to treat breaks." Hani's horror-filled stare caused Harry to hasten his explanation. "But if it is broken then I can call in a Healer to fix it properly. No need to worry, okay? You're both in good hands."

He wasn't going to bother asking what they had been fighting about. The idea was as disturbing and once-unthinkable as the thought of Fred and George getting into a fight, but it happened regardless. Somehow the thought of the cousins fighting was more unbelievable than the Weasley Twins, when he really thought of it since their relationship was the epitome of symbiosis.

Harry set to work in earnest, first brushing some of the cut-sealing salve over the scratches on each boy's face and one that Harry hadn't immediately noticed that ran along Mori's forearm opposite the maybe-broken one (understandable since it was shallow, just like the one on his forehead and covered by his shirt) before moving onto the bruises. With his shirt removed from the equation, Hani's bruise didn't look half as bad as it had, actually. Lucky, considering it looked absolutely horrid through the fabric.

"You'll have to close your eye, Mori-senpai," Harry informed the silent senior as he dabbed more balm onto the tips of his fingers. Mori had actually been quieter in the past few minutes than Harry had become accustomed to (in the past weeks Mori had been considerably more outspoken in Harry's opinion), in that he hadn't said so much as his usual "Aa." "This stuff can't get in your eyes. Not that it would do any damage, but it stings like there's no tomorrow." Harry had expected some acknowledgement to this, but Mori simply allowed his eye to close without preamble (it was swollen almost shut anyway). Whatever the fight had been over, losing had obviously put Mori in a bad mood.

Harry wasn't too surprised by the slight wince Mori gave at first contact. Black eyes were painful, especially when they were still in the process of actually bruising, and this one didn't appear to be giving Mori an easy time of it. Still, Harry was diligent, sure to keep his touches as gentle as possible as he spread the balm. It was a little awkward to be leaning over Mori like this – it was probably the one time he would ever look _down_ on the stoic senior – while checking that the entire bruise was covered, but Harry dispelled the feeling as best he could. This was his duty, and he'd found he rather liked healing, enough so that if he didn't have his Company to worry about he would likely have become a Healer "when he grew up" as the saying goes.

"All done, Senpai," Harry leaned out of Mori's personal bubble and focused his attention on the older boy's wrist rather than how close they had been and the feeling of having Mori's eye (the not-swollen one) on his as he worked. "Just be sure that you don't rub your eye until it's healed completely and you've washed your face, alright? It wasn't kidding about the stinging." He didn't bother waiting for a response given Mori's current attitude, instead tapping the injured wrist with his wand and muttering the diagnostic charm. The blue glow told him all he needed to know. "Just a sprain. Give me a moment and I can grab the potions for that."

Hani hovered over Harry's shoulder as he sorted out the potions needed to deal with Mori's wrist. In his opinion, it was a lucky break that there _was_ no break since Harry wasn't entirely certain that the Healers would take a muggle patient without him doing something drastic. Either way, it must have been a serious fight for them to have actually _hurt_ each other.

"So you can fix him, Harry-chan?" Hani's voice was full of hope, awe, and a tinge of guilt as he spoke from just next to Harry's ear. His admiring gaze was much the same as when Harry "fixed" his cavity six months ago.

"As good as new, just like I promised," Harry reassured the smaller boy. "But as a warning, Mori-senpai, this _will_ hurt a little bit. Make sure to down this pain-reliever straight after, got it?" He indicated a vaguely orange potion as he passed along a translucent purple.

Mori necked the potion that would take care of his wrist before Harry had even unstoppered the orange phial in his hand, and the sour expression on his face at the taste made Harry chuckle slightly. Considering Mori wasn't the most emotive of people (one could find more visible emotion on Piyo-chan or a gold fish), it was a funny expression. Still, Harry wasn't a vindictive person – even if Mori _was_ in a bad mood – and pulled the stopper from the pain potion – it targeted arms – and pressed the crystal to Mori's lips with an amused sigh.

"If you had waited about five seconds I could have warned you about the taste, too," Harry pointed out as he tucked the empty phials back into his bag to be recycled later. "Most potions taste worse, so I'm sure you can imagine it's near impossible to get wizarding kids to take their medicine. Sleep potions and pain potions all taste fine though, but you should both count yourselves lucky that the bruise balm and sealant are topical." With his bag resealed, Harry was ready to head home and finish packing. He still had to decide what books, if any, he would bring. "As it is, you guys are probably the best patients I've ever treated. I'd give you both lollipops if I had them."

The comment caused Hani to giggle around a forkful of cake before he pouted, eyes locked on the bag that Harry was slinging over his shoulder. "Are you leaving already?" The dreaded puppy-dog eyes were already being brought into play. He looked completely pitiable, causing Harry to hesitate.

"I have to pack for my class trip," he apologized, rubbing the back of his head and ruffling his hair nervously.

"But my cut still hurts," Hani poked his cheek as proof and winced. The salve would take a while to completely seal the cuts, though since Hani's was so shallow it ought to be nearly done. Still the prickling feeling could be disruptive, Harry supposed.

"I can't give you any pain-killers for something like that. The pain should be gone in a few minutes, anyway." Where was Hani going with this?

"Can you kiss it better, then?"

Harry could only gape. He knew that Hani was probably the most childish soon-to-be eighteen year old in existence, but he also knew a lot of it was by choice. That is, he knew that Hani knew when he was saying or doing something that no one else his age could get away with. The problem was that Hani probably _could_ get away with this sort of thing.

"I'm sure you can handle it for a few minutes more," Harry choked out a reply after a good ten seconds of silence during which he felt that a good portion of blood had fled his head.

"But Harry-_chaaan_!" The pout was back with a vengeance, and Harry could do nothing but crumble under the terrible force it presented combined with Hani's usual cuteness attack. It ought to be illegal for a seventeen year old boy to be so utterly adorable.

"Fine," Harry didn't want to do this. In fact, he _really_ didn't want to do this, but there was no denying Hani. It was like some unwritten law of the universe that one could not say no to Hani (much like the unwritten law that no laws regarding weather and seasons could apply to Ouran and the surrounding area whether written or un). Harry bent down over the boy (his position was extra low since he was sitting) and gave him a peck on the cheek where the faint pink line could still be seen. "There. Happy?"

"Uh-huh!" Hani nodded happily and held out his rabbit. "Usa-chan needs a kiss too!" Harry gave an exasperated sigh, kissed the stuffed bunny on the cheek, and was set to leave as Hani cuddled his boo-boo free Usa-chan. "Takashi's cuts probably still hurt, right Takashi?"

A _look_ passed from Mori to Hani. Harry called it a _look_ because he couldn't give it a proper name. If Mori were any other person, it would have been called a death-glare that was worthy of Snape on a bad day, but the very idea was ridiculous! Not only did Mori not wish death on anyone – he was generally quite peaceful after all – but even if he did, he certainly wouldn't be glaring death at _Hani_ of all people. It was a trick of the mind, surely, or perhaps Mori's swollen eye was merely giving the look a malevolent cast. There was no other explanation.

Either way, Harry felt all the blood in his body rush to his face and stood stiffly. Even his ears felt hot! Even without a mirror, Harry knew that he had turned a spectacular shade of crimson that had only been seen before on Weasleys and in cartoons, and he was gaping like a fish. He wondered which deities were doing this to him and whether or not he could kill them after he died of embarrassment. It was one thing for Hani to act exceedingly childish and request a kiss to fix an injury or to ask for a kiss for his rabbit. It was another thing entirely to request that Harry kiss _Mori's_ cuts. Not that Harry was adverse to the idea, but in practice it was extremely awkward.

Maybe it wasn't so inconceivable that Mori could glare at Hani right then.

"Well, Harry-chan?" Hani's voice was so sweet at that moment, and Harry realized that it was all an act, at least right then. It was very much pretended ignorance. Hani _knew_ something, and now he was just having his wicked way with Harry's kind nature and the general tolerance that both he and Mori had for Hani's childish antics. "Love makes injuries heal faster! See?" He poked his cheek again and didn't wince that time. So he'd been faking being in pain from the healing cut as well, most likely, or else he was masking the lingering ache at that moment.

Harry felt like kicking himself but instead took a calming breath – it didn't help his blush at all – and was preparing to duck out somehow, maybe apparate straight away without any explanation? He'd proven to be a coward often enough in the past weeks, so why not again? His gaze touched on Mori's own, which had been fixed on him since Hani's little spiel about love helping to heal. Mori simply rolled his eyes in a good natured "what can you do?" manner that honestly surprised the young savior of the world. Perhaps Mori really had been in a foul mood with his cousin, but even if that was the case, he was still willing to humor the boy.

With a resolute sigh, Harry stepped forward, still blushing for all he was worth, and walked over to Mori's perch on the window. If this wasn't his most embarrassing moment, more so than when he tried to ask Cho Chang to the Yule Ball or his horrid attempt at dancing at said Ball, then Harry really didn't want to know what could be more awkward. Somehow, he found there was still some blood remaining in the rest of his body that made his cheeks even darker as he quickly leaned forward a placed a kiss on Mori's collar and then his forehead.

This done, Harry scampered back a good three paces, slightly amazed that, not only could his face hold so much blood at once, but that he could move when it seemed that none of it remained in his limbs.

"Right... I'll just..." Harry looked down at the floor, too mortified to meet the gaze that he felt was being leveled at him. One twist of his heel later and Harry found himself on the ground floor of his home. He hid in his room from nothing for the rest of the evening, only allowing Sirius in for a minute as "proof" that he was alive and then continued packing for the trip.

* * *

Crisp mountain air the likes of which Harry had only Hogwarts' winter environs to compare – and even then, the Hogwarts air had a certain hum of energy that the mountains seemed all the grander without – was the first thing Harry noted as he stepped out of the car that had taken him to Kurakano Momoka's ski lodge. The second thing he noticed was the plethora of ski instructors who bowed everyone out of their cars.

The third thing was that Haruhi was already overwhelmed by the experience. To put it plainly, he was too. Still, Harry took a good look around and smiled at the sight of some of the girls making a snow man. It seemed even the ridiculously rich could do silly things like that, though he wondered how they would take being introduced to the art of snowball fighting, if they didn't already know of it. Probably with more than a little chaos. Tamaki would go nuts at the idea, and the twins...

Harry shook his head and walked a few paces, pointing out his things to an attendant who was taking the bags inside while rooms were assigned.

Speaking of, Soga – the class president – walked over to Harry. "Potter, do you have any requests for who your room with?"

"Hm," Harry paused, thinking for about five seconds. "I think I'll room with Haruhi-kun. His father is going to call every night – a real worry wart, you know – and Haruhi-kun's phone doesn't get any reception up here. He'll probably call my phone after that, and it would be convenient to not have to go running about to try and find him." It was a reasonable answer to cover up for the real one.

Soga looked slightly putout – he'd likely been intending to room with Haruhi since he seemed to draw some measure of bravery from the "natural" Host – but made the note on his register all the same and walked off to talk to another student. Everyone slowly moved on from the drop-off point and Harry paired off with a skiing instructor to figure out how on earth he was supposed to go down a mountain on two sticks.

And several hours later, back at the lodge, Harry found that he liked skiing very much and that he might like to try snowboarding the next day. The wind in his face, biting, was similar to flying, and considering he was essentially "grounded" for the entire week... it was a nice experience.

"Hey, Harry-kun," Hikaru and Kaoru popped up in front of Harry as he nursed a cup of hot chocolate, Haruhi in tow. "We just heard from the Chairman than you're rooming with Haruhi. What's up with that?"

"I'm fairly certain that the chairman wanted to room with Haruhi-kun, since he seems to draw strength from her," Harry explained easily, pulling his bag off of the seat next to him so that the Hosts could sit. "I knew that she wouldn't think ahead enough on that matter, so I did something to prevent her secret from coming out in the most embarrassing way possible, you see?"

"One of us could have roomed with her, or she could have asked for a single room," Hikaru groused as he took the proffered seat.

"I'd already said I was fine with a double, Hikaru," Haruhi reasoned. "It would have been suspicious if I turned right around as soon as I found out who my roommate was, don't you think?"

"And have either of you ever slept in a room with another person outside of each other?" Harry asked. "Haruhi-kun's sleeping pattern is almost definitely very different from either of yours, and it's difficult to sleep in a room with unfamiliar noises. You wouldn't have slept a wink. I, on the other hand, shared a dormitory with four other boys at Hogwarts. I've grown accustomed to just about every noise someone could possibly make in their sleep. Besides, you don't have to worry about my intentions toward you 'princess', do you boys? And I'll clear out for you to take a bath uninterrupted, Haruhi-kun, no worries."

Harry finished the last of his cocoa and stood from the couch, gave his goodbyes to the Hosts, and found his way to his room to get ready for dinner. Really, they were making too big a deal of it. Besides, if it came to one of the twins sleeping in the same room as Haruhi, it would end up being Hikaru, and even if the change in breathing pattern didn't bother him, sleeping in the same room as the girl he likes – if not loves – might prove to be a press on the boy's sanity. (5)

As he heading to the bath later that evening, Harry paused in the doorway of the room he shared with Haruhi. "Oh, if the Chairman asks, your phone doesn't get reception up here so you had to use my phone to contact your father, okay?" And he left before Haruhi could respond, walking the halls of the (very large) lodge, feeling rather that the world was in harmony for some strange reason.

Until he turned a corner and saw all of the Host boys – minus Tamaki and Hikaru – talking in the middle of the hall. And here Harry was hoping that it would be a couple days yet before they popped up for the trip, hoping to work his mortification of the previous day to manageable levels before seeing Mori and Hani again.

_Well... shit,_ Harry sighed mentally and quickly darted down another corridor to avoid detection. Maybe harmony wasn't the best way to describe the state of the world, then.

**Author's Note: Hm... I wonder what Hani and Mori were fighting about? Well, I already know, and I'm sure some of you figured it out. (Not a canon thing.) And no, I'm not setting up a love triangle. Ouran has enough of those already. You may have noticed an increase in cute Mori/Harry moments. Trust me when I say that you aren't the only one.**

**Last chapter covered chapter 57, in which Haruhi starts realizing she loves Tamaki... canonically. But not in this story. I decided I'm not doing Tama/Haru. To cover part of the chapter 58 revelations, just imagine that Tamaki forgot his bag later that week and Haruhi returned it to him, in the process meeting the lawyer who had known of her mother. There's only three more chapters of canon before Ouran is completely tapped out, too... (unless another chapter is posted to OneManga before I get that far, anyway).**

**While writing the second half of this chapter, I was reading Vacation With The Club by PurifieDarkness for the fourth time this summer. I have no life. For those who have read this, you probably get what Hani's up to, right? Also, I don't have writer's workshop until next semester... sad. But how do you like that? I'm back off to school and **_**they**_** get to go on vacation. Those gits.**

(1) In chapter 59, Haruhi picked the cosplay and it was Japanese folk lore. I figure there is prep time and, even if only she and Kyouya knew about it ahead of time, Harry still looked at the role sheet and saw what everyone was going to be for the up-coming cosplay. Kyouya was Urashima Taro (see (2)), Tamaki the turtle, Hani was Hanasaka Jii-san (Grandfather cherry blossom), Mori was Momotaro (and an amazing one at that... coincidentally, Momotaro has been my favorite Japanese folktale since I was about seven. Funny how these things work out), and Haruhi and the twins were his companions (Haruhi the dog, Hikaru the monkey, and Kaoru the pheasant). For more information on these stories you can look up "Japanese Folk Tales" on wikipedia.

(2) The tale of a man who saved a turtle and visited the bottom of the sea, only to come up three hundred years later thinking he had been gone only a few days.

(3) What is it with everyone and their moms? Haruhi wants to become a lawyer because her mother was one, Tamaki wants to see his mother, the twins are following their mom's footsteps with fashion... so strange, isn't it? And tossing Harry into the mix... well, just kind of odd.

(4) Convenience of the author, that is.

(5) "Coincidentally", this is exactly what happened in the manga.


	20. Chapter 20

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

_Dedicating this chapter to Marauder's Heir because 1) she reviewed ten minutes after I posted chapter 19 (yay) and 2) she traded PMs with me for a bit after that. It was fun :-)** Edit: 1 year later and we're still talking to one another :D So it's extra dedicated.**_

Chapter 20

At nine in the morning, the Hosts all met up in the dining area of the lodge where the first years were staying. Any earlier and heads would be rolling from the combined grumpiness of Hani and Kyouya, or so it was rumored, but as there was no evidence to back up said rumor, it remained just that. Indeed, they were enjoying a nice breakfast, even as they were pestered on all sides by the girls of 1-A. As soon as Kurakano – the vice-president of class 1-A and the one whose family owned the lodge – found out that the Hosts were staying nearby and were going to be skiing with their younger members, she informed the staff that the three upperclassmen were to be treated just as well as the actual guests.

"Haru-chan, Kao-chan said you're sharing a room with Harry-chan, aren't you?" Hani asked curiously from behind his stack of strawberry pancakes. At Haruhi's nod, he continued. "Where is he? We've been here _forever_ and he hasn't shown up yet."

"I couldn't wake him up," Haruhi admitted. "He didn't react at all, even when I told him that you had all come up as well, so I'm pretty sure he must be really sleepy. He said he always wakes up early, but it's getting kind of late for that, isn't it?" She chuckled slightly at something the rest of them failed to fathom. The light "chink" of cutlery being placed on an empty plate caught the attention of those at the table and – at least Haruhi and the twins – were surprised to see that Mori was getting up.

"Takashi, where are you going?" Somehow, the sweet tones of Hani sounded rather false, which was never a good sign. Mori turned his head and gave a look that could almost be construed as a glare... but that was, of course, ridiculous, because Mori didn't glare, much less at his cousin. "Are you going to go get Harry-chan?"

Mori merely nodded in response. He turned around again and was going to start actually getting to finding the raven-haired first year who was, apparently, having a lie-in, but Haruhi was suddenly in front of him holding a cardkey.

"It's room 42 (1). Good luck," She smiled at him in a gesture of good will and returned to the table where Hikaru was arguing over a piece of bacon that he had nicked from Kaoru's plate. Mori made his way out of the dining hall and set out to find the mysterious room 42.

Upon locating said room, the door was unlocked, so Mori let himself in and found that, true to Haruhi's word – as if he would doubt her – Harry was curled up in his bed. And saying "curled up" wasn't the least it of exaggeration either, as he had essentially wrapped himself around his pillow, one foot hanging off the bed with his entire blanket on the floor excepting a corner that was hooked over the dangling foot. It made for an oddly endearing scene, though the position couldn't have been comfortable to sleep in.

It occurred to Mori that it might be awkward to wake the younger boy up after Hani's bit of meddling on Friday, but he pushed the thought aside and sat on the edge of Harry's bed, ready to shake him awake.

Harry, meanwhile, had other ideas.

He had, as a matter of fact, been awake for going on two hours now, after a night of fitful dreaming from over-stressing himself over several matters, or that's what he attributed it to. He had spent the past two hours trying to find a comfortable position to wallow in before he felt that it was time to get up. Needless to say, he didn't feel like waking up, and when he heard the door clicking open he had pretended to be asleep again, intending to dissuade Haruhi – for who else had a key to their room? – from waking him.

However, when no verbal attempt was made and Harry felt the other person in the room settle on the side of his bed, he realized who it was that had come to wake him and his stomach did jumping jacks just to piss him off, he was sure.

"I'm awake," Harry stated calmly, turning his head away from the pillow that he was cuddling so that his voice wouldn't be taken as incomprehensible mumblings of sleep. "And I've been awake. No need for a wake-up call, Senpai." Couldn't an alone moment with Mori have happened, say, when Harry had had the time to bury himself six feet under and therefore not be embarrassed? The Fates were surely laughing at him.

Mori poked him anyway.

"I'm not getting up," Harry grouched, burying his face back into the pillow, but keeping his mouth free for intelligible conversation. "My bed is perfectly comfy and warm, but thanks for your concern."

Mori remained silent and touched his arm which was – coincidentally – not covered by the blanket that was pretty much all on the floor.

"I don't need a blanket to be warm," protested the only member of the conversation who was actually conversing by conventional means. "My pajamas are perfectly capable of keeping me warm, Senpai. Plus, as far as you know, I put a warming charm on myself."

There was no poke this time, but Harry could feel Mori's skepticism in the air, if such a thing was actually possible.

"I said as far as you know, not that I actually did it," he folded on that one. "My point is that I wouldn't get out of this bed even if you paid me." Harry realized that Mori might take the statement literally and clarified. "It's just an expression, Senpai. It means that I'm not getting up."

"What about skiing?" The first words that Harry had heard out of him since... Wednesday, actually, since when Harry had seen him on Friday he was grumpy and Harry had Black Magic Club on Thursday. The words were fine enough, though. They gave some hope – when combined with the fact that Mori had actually come to wake him up instead of someone else – that the _incident_ from Friday could be ignored. Harry rolled over in bed to stick his tongue out at the senior.

"Not skiing today; I was going to try snowboarding," it was with triumph that the Boy-Who-Lived returned to cuddling his pillow. The victory was very short-lived, however.

"Do you know how?" Two sentences already! Harry was lucky indeed, especially after the _incident_. Damn Hani and the natural laws that forbid his denial.

"Nope," Harry wasn't embarrassed by the admission. After all, he'd admitted just the day previous that he didn't know how to ski; why should admitting to not knowing how to snowboard be any more difficult? "Thus the operative word is 'try.'"

"I could teach you," Mori offered. The Fates had, undoubtedly, fallen out of their seats and were rolling on the floor as they laughed at Harry's plight. He hoped the sadistic bastards would wet themselves.

"Still don't want to get up." Harry soon found that this was _not_ the correct answer as his pillow was pulled gently from his grip, and with it a good portion of his body heat. He grimaced and curled up further on himself, but Mori grabbed his arm to prevent him from doing so successfully. "Can't I just wallow in peace?" The drama behind this would have won him a good three hours from Sirius.

Mori, less affected than Harry's overemotional godfather by theatrics (he had to deal with getting Hani to wake up without killing anything quite frequently, after all), responded with a simple shake of his head and proceeded to force Harry to sit up. He propped the boy up into a proper position and finally got a good look at Harry, as well as his... pajamas.

Harry was, in fact, wearing a pair of green pajama pants that were quite normal looking, muggle in every way, from the store he bought them at to the manufacturing company. The shirt, however, was a sort of dark blue color and bore the image of a racing broom – brand name on the handle obscured by supposed speed – and a golden snitch in front of it. It also bore the legend "Save a Broomstick, Ride a Seeker."

It just so happened to be a gift from Fred and George from his past birthday, and Harry had meant to never wear it. Apparently, Tipsy hadn't taken Harry's order to not let Sirius do anything to Harry's bags for the trip seriously, and so the only way Harry could get away with wearing it was either under his ski jacket – somehow he knew that that was not an option – or as a night shirt (his, coincidentally, was not where he had placed it). The latter was obviously the option picked.

"Seeker is a position in Quidditch, which is a sport played fifty feet in the air on broomsticks," Harry explained to Mori's questioning look. "It's also the position I played on my school team. Sirius probably interfered with my packing at some point, otherwise I wouldn't even have this with me, I assure you." Harry kept his tone flat to convey his annoyance without being spiteful.

Mori seemed to know when he was fighting a lost cause and didn't ask any questions, and Harry, sadly, knew when he had lost as well, He forced his legs to take his weight as he grabbed some clothes from one of his bags and retreated to the bathroom for a quick shower – the bath last night was a relaxation thing rather than for getting clean, after all – and dressed in the Weasley sweater that Mrs. Weasley had knit for him in fourth year. She had always used Ron as the indicator for Harry's sweaters, so the shirt was still a bit long and wide for him after two years, but sweaters were more effective if they were baggy. Besides, Harry was more than used to wearing clothes that were too large for him.

After touching in a pair of contact lenses – the goggles pressed his glasses into his nose, which was hardly comfortable – Harry left the bathroom, resigned to the fact that he had to be out of bed and would, in fact, be going down before lunch. He was surprised to find that Mori was sitting on his bed, flipping through a history text that Harry had been reading the previous night. Probably wanted to make sure he didn't go back to bed.

"Enjoying yourself?" Harry asked as he approached the bedside table. He picked up his wand and muttered a simple drying charm over his hair before turning to Mori who nodded idly as he read. "You can borrow it if you like. I've already read it."

Mori looked up at Harry curiously before nodding and closing the book, setting it on Harry's bed while said wizard bustled about collecting his snow gear. The message was fairly clear. As it was a magical text and Mori didn't have a bag on him, he would borrow it later, perhaps when he returned to the lodge where he was staying. Harry wondered at how he had come to understand Mori's unspoken language to an extent in the past weeks since he'd only had the vaguest of ideas a couple months ago, but pressed the thought away and hung his ski mask around his neck. He'd spent two hours thinking; it was time for breakfast.

The silence that surrounded Mori and Harry – excluding the sounds of lazy rich people only just waking up or the occasional girl stalking Mori through the halls – was oddly companionable. Harry wasn't feeling half as awkward as he felt he ought to, which was probably a good thing. He felt his cheeks were warmer than usual of course, but at least he hadn't invented a new shade of red like he had the other day. Hopefully Mori had taken that incident as Harry merely humoring Hani and the embarrassment as being from the ridiculousness of it; Mori was a good friend, and Harry's emotional issues not withstanding, if the older boy started avoiding him, Harry wouldn't be in a good way.

Though if Mori did avoid him he might present less of a target to the Death Eaters, which was always good. But the thought made Harry want to go crawl in a corner and die, so if it _actually_ happened... well, he wasn't sure what he'd do, but it was sure to involve much moping. Then again, the idea of any of the Hosts _dying_ because of him was even worse.

Breakfast passed without fanfare (aside from the usual girls coming to pester to Hosts and one who wanted Harry to read her coffee dregs), and soon everyone was heading off to the equipment building to pick up their skis (or in Harry's case, snowboard) for the day. Mori and Hani were apparently both intending to snowboard since they had left theirs leaning against the building, and as with anything around Hani, his was adorable, pink, and rabbit covered. Mori's was a cool one, black with jagged blue lines. (2)

Of course, Harry hadn't even considered snowboarding until the morning previous when he was buying skis. He'd taken one look at the wall of snowboards and immediately bought a plain black one (or as close as he could find) and decorated it properly on the drive up the mountain. Harry Potter was the proud owner of a predominantly black snowboard with a large green lightning bolt adorning the bottom (he couldn't think of anything else, but it looked kind of cool and it wasn't like most of the people on the trip had any idea what it meant for him anyway) and the back had the Potter Crest – a wand and sword crossed with a flame twined around them and bearing the legend "Cum Nostrum Aevum Vallo" (3) – which looked kind of cool in his opinion. How he did so love charms.

Considering he was so reluctant to get out of bed and face the day, Harry was pretty excited about trying the board out. And then he saw Mori and Hani showing off for the first years and he became all the more eager. A ski jump looked awkward, having your legs straight up, but on a snowboard... he grinned. It would be a lot more alike to flying than skiing was, surely.

"Harry-kun, have you seen Hikaru and Kaoru?" Haruhi asked. "They're supposed to be giving me 'special training' again today, but I haven't seen them since Hani-senpai and Mori-senpai started." Harry could tell that she – just like everyone else – was in awe of the show Mori and Hani had put on and was hiding it.

Still grinning, Harry scanned the crowd for about five seconds before shaking his head. "No, but they'll be along soon, I'm sure. There's pretty much no chance of them ditching you," Harry assured her. Considering Hikaru's feelings for her – which Kaoru probably still harbored as well, but he'd obviously given up in favor of his brother – there really was no chance of them _not_ teaching her how to ski and sticking to her like glue. "You could probably ask Kyouya-senpai, though. If anyone will know where they are it's him."

Haruhi nodded and walked off to where Kyouya was standing with his camera poised to take a picture of Hani and Mori, while Harry sat in the snow with his board in his lap and stared at the sky. Somehow, it felt like he'd never seen so much sky in his life, even when he flew in it just about every week, and that was a pretty spectacular feeling in his mind. Maybe the mountains just made everything seem that much larger.

He vaguely noted some fanfare as a group of boys asked Mori to teach them to snowboard and shifted slightly in his seat. There went his chance to get Mori to teach him, then. Still, he could probably stumble through the basics on his own for the day to keep busy. The lack of having the senior for his instructor wasn't going to deter him from having fun, since the world seemed determined to _make_ him have fun.

To say that he was surprised when a gloved hand appeared in front of him that just so happened to be attached to Mori would be more than a slight understatement given that Harry was expecting the older boy to be teaching the other first years how to snowboard. Not only had they actually asked for the help, but they had (probably) never mortified themselves in front of Mori. When these observations were put together and stuck in the head of one Harry Potter it resulted in him staring at the offered hand and the person it was attached to for a good ten seconds.

"I figured you were going to be teaching those other boys how to snowboard," Harry noted after his gaze had dropped back to the board in his lap where his own gloved fingers were set neatly on the fastenings.

"I said I would teach you," Mori responded. Harry felt his lip twitch.

"You did, didn't you?" He reached up and grasped the proffered hand. After being hauled to his feet (and being a bit too close to Mori for comfort for about three seconds before he stepped back), Harry allowed the twitch to become a smile, his enthusiasm to learn how to snowboard increasing tenfold. "Thank you, Mori-senpai."

The next hour was spent with Mori instructing Harry on how to snowboard without overbalancing or anything – usually by example or by positioning Harry's limbs himself since he wasn't much of a talker – until Harry could make it down a good portion of the mountain without aid. His grin extended from ear to ear as they made it back down to lodge-level where Hani could be seen building a snowman with some of the first year girls. It still wasn't as death defying as flying, but it was _fun_.

Then the grin faltered.

If asked, Harry would say that he had a _very_ good reason to suddenly lose every ounce of good mood that he possessed in every cell of his body. The sudden change seemed to have thrown Mori for a loop, but Harry wasn't minding him as his eyes narrowed and tracked a figure that was approaching at a slow, arrogant pace, if a pace could be considered arrogant.

Harry quickly freed his feet from the snowboard and tucked it under his arm, walking forward to meet the figure, and snarled in his native tongue, "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Just like in October with a distinctly older and taller version of the persn before him.

For there was, indeed, a Malfoy present. Draco Malfoy to be exact. The Ferret-King continued his walk a few more paces until he was _just_ out of Harry's reach and stood with a smirk, cold gray eyes boring into Harry as if he knew everything. Looks like that, the kind belonging to Snape, Dumbledore, and Voldemort, could make a person truly believe that the person giving the look was reading their mind. It wasn't pleasant.

"Really, Potter, can't I go skiing during my holiday?" Malfoy's tone was the usual haughty "I'm better than everyone else so _there_" tone that he had used at Hogwarts. He didn't seem as inclined as Harry to keep the conversation as private as possible (or perhaps he only had one of the lesser translation spells on him) and was speaking in fluent Japanese. "Although it's quite the coincidence, don't you agree? How strange."

"Coincidences are for people who don't have murderers after them," Harry deadpanned, refusing to let his eyes stray from the Slytherin before him. He set his snowboard down to keep his movement free in case the blond decided to start a fight. "I want to know why you are here, what your bastard of a father and the rest of the scum are planning, and then I want you to leave." Harry couldn't remember being this angry even when he'd seen Lucius Malfoy at the festival in October. He hadn't seen the younger Malfoy in a year and a half, and he had hoped for that time to stretch further. Unfortunately, that was obviously not to be the case.

"You're so demanding," Malfoy allowed what had been a condescending smile to turn into his father's trademarked sneer. "You think the entire world revolves around you, don't you Potter? Ever think that maybe I just so happened to be enjoying a holiday outside of England and that you might not have anything to do with it?"

"Even if I have no part of whatever they're planning, we both know I would be the icing on the cake at the very least," Harry allowed his own scowl to deepen. Chances were that he was the main ingredient in the cake... and why was he thinking in baking metaphors? "If you're just here to insult me, please leave. I got enough of that from you at Hogwarts."

"I'm here to ski, Scarhead, same as anyone else is these Morgaine-forsaken mountains," he looked around the area with a scowl, as if the mountains themselves weren't worthy of his presence. His features drew into a smirk again soon enough. "Without your glasses you look almost pretty. If the Mudblood weren't dead I'm sure she could give you some beauty tips."

"This area is a _private_ ski-resort," Harry snapped back, ignoring the jab altogether. Malfoy had only just started pushing buttons, and already Harry wanted to beat him to a pulp. In all honesty, if given the chance, Harry would deck Malfoy. Disrespecting the dead... that had always been his main dig at Harry. Insult the dead parents, the dead friend, whoever. As it was, he could tell that they were drawing the attention of the few students who weren't skiing. A hand appeared on Harry's shoulder, and he didn't even have to look up to know that it was Mori.

Malfoy's gaze trailed above Harry's head and slightly to the left. He eyed Mori with obvious distaste. "I see you replaced Weasel as your muscle. Tell me, is this one being paid too or is he in it just for the fame?"

The only answer Malfoy received was Harry's fist driving hard into his cheek.

The blow landed Malfoy in a snow drift that exploded into powder on contact while Mori tugged Harry back. Malfoy just made him so mad... Harry took a steadying breath to keep from erupting in anger. He still had the occasional burst of accidental magic like any young wizard, and if he didn't get himself under control there might be snow balls forming in the air of their own accord or something equally obvious. As it was, his hand was throbbing and he focused on that. He'd never actually punched someone before; he'd always been on the receiving end, and while throwing a punch was more satisfying he knew that it was a very dumb move. He'd stood up to Malfoy's digs for _years_ without decking him, and now...

Well, now Malfoy was lying in the snow, clutching his jaw, and Harry was feeling quite ashamed of himself while his classmates watched. The blow was probably justified. After all, he'd just called Mori many insulting things all in one breath: a gold digger, hired help, a fair-weather friend, one of those people who stand by to soak up the after-waves of fame... essentially, he'd called Mori Ron, and that was enough reason. It didn't stop Harry from feeling like the scum of the earth for hitting him.

Dudley hit people because he was a spoiled brat and a bully with a brute of a father who never taught him any different. Dudley used to hit Harry all the time, in fact. It didn't justify Harry's actions, nor the remembrance of the time that Hermione had slapped Malfoy in third year. She'd had a valid excuse, taunting them over an unjust death that _he_ had caused when Hermione was immensely stressed. What excuse did Harry have?

None that he found valid enough.

He tore himself from Mori's grasp and dashed away around several high snowdrifts until he knew he would be invisible to everyone remaining behind and apparated to the top of the slope he had used to learn skiing at the day before. And he continued running. He was good at running.

After a while, the cold biting at his cheeks became too much and Harry took note of his surroundings. It was snowing, snowing a lot in fact, and the wind was a lot higher than it should have been, blowing snow directly into his face. Harry scowled and drew up his ski mask, shoving his goggles to rest properly in front of his eyes. Where was he? All these mountains looked the same anyway, but now he couldn't see more than a foot and a half in front of his face.

"Shit," he grumbled into the mask. His legs ached from running, his face was freezing, and he knew his phone wouldn't have reception. His fingers were a bit stiff too, despite the thermal padding that was meant to keep that from happening. Harry grimaced behind the ski mask and stuck his right hand up his left sleeve, pulling his wand out to start muttering warming charms. While it helped, there was a puddle at his feet that would start freezing over if he didn't move quickly.

It was what he deserved for losing control, wasn't it? He'd had moments in the past year where he felt like his head was going to explode, but he'd actually _hit_ someone. Even if it was Malfoy, King of Ferrets, Death Eater In-Training, Stuck-Up Git, and whatever else he could be called, Harry had always grown up believing that physical violence didn't solve problems or else Dudley's problems with him would have been solved before they even started school. He had thought that if he didn't hit anyone, then he would be above that level and he wouldn't be following the theory he'd heard on the telly once about "the abused becoming the abuser" or some such.

Shows where that got him. A load of emotional issues that he had been bottling up – and still was, thank you very much – and it felt like his fingers were bruised pretty badly. It hurt to even hold his wand! With that in mind he stowed it back up his sleeve, shivering as some snow got up his sleeve. Damn. Now his arm was going to be wet. Still, he started looking for shelter. He could beat himself up when he knew he wasn't going to freeze to death, or at least when he had his bearings. As it was, apparating was out since he wouldn't be able to tell where he was unless he apparated directly in front of the lodge.

Needless to say, that wasn't an option.

Harry trudged along, pausing the add another warming charm as he became aware of places where he had missed, and hoped that no one else was caught out in this.

* * *

The lodge's entrance hall was full of all the students of 1-A plus the visiting Hosts. Haruhi and Kaoru had been among the last to enter and before Kurakano finished the headcount, they knew there would be two people missing. Meeting up with the other Hosts in a corner, it wasn't difficult for either to note the general feelings of unease among the group. It was rather hard to miss, really. Hani was a little teary-eyed as he sat cuddling Usa-chan, Kyouya was staring off into a random part of the room with his brow furrowed, and Mori... he was visibly upset.

"Haru-chan!" Hani jumped off the couch he was seated in and tackled Haruhi in a hug, his eyes brimming with tears. "Haru-chan, Kao-chan, have you seen Harry-chan?"

"Harry-kun? No, not since before lunch," she frowned and led Hani back to the couch to get him to sit. "I heard from Renge-kun that Harry punched a boy and ran off. He hasn't come back yet?" Now there were three people to worry about. "Hikaru and the chairman are still out there, too. I hope they're all okay." She sighed and noticed that there was a seat open where it shouldn't be.

Mori was already standing with the party that Kurakano was setting up to find the missing students before anyone could notice and was out the door before any of his friends could find him.

They found Hikaru and Soga first, the former carrying the latter on his back piggy-back style and looking completely wiped. Mori and one of the ski instructors quickly ushered them onto the first snowmobile where they were driven back to the lodge, the snowfall already having decreased since they set out. Mori opted to continue with the other ski instructor to search for Harry, though they had no clue where to look.

Mori had always liked the snow. As a matter of fact, winter was his favorite season because of the fluffy white crystals of ice that floated from the heavens. Every sort of weather had its own sound. Rain had a pitter-pattering sound, and a short of soft "shhh" to it while hail was full of pings and taps. With sunshine came birdsong and a cacophony of other noises spurred on by the light. Even an overcast day or fog had its own muted noise of soft stirrings. And snow muffled everything.

Not that Mori had anything against noise, but snow always seemed to fall when the sounds of the world became overwhelming, and suddenly everything would freeze and people would stare in wonder at the snowfall. As it fell, any noises became softer, muffled by the natural barrier of the flakes. The only sound the snow made was a sort of squeaky crunching noise as it was crushed, and he had always loved that about snow even as a child.

Now, for the first time in his life, Mori was wishing that it hadn't snowed, because any trail that might exist to find the missing first year was gone.

It was only by luck that Mori noticed a small frozen puddle as the passed it, and when they passed another only ten seconds later he realized they had to be on the right track. He kept his eyes peeled for more of these puddles as they drove on until he saw one last one next to a copse of trees and jumped out, assuring the other man that he would be careful of any ice and that he would be fine looking in the trees on his own.

The puddle nearest the woods was about three minutes' walk off, but Mori was sure that Harry had found his way in. This belief was only compounded when he found shallow footprints, almost completely filled in, leading further into the trees. Then he found a place where there was no snow.

It was small, only a few feet around, with high walls of frozen water, iced over at the edges, and essentially leading into a five-foot deep pit that held only the barest dusting of snow in small patches, the rest melted and creating a wet patch. It was, however, not the lack of snow that caught Mori's attention as he gazed down into the pit, but rather the person who sat curled against the base of the tree that this pit was ensconcing.

It was only the fact that Harry's shoulders rose and fell that kept Mori from panicking. As it was, the senior slid into the pit easily, not surprised that Harry seemed to be radiating too much heat. He suspected that Harry had used those "warming charms" of his at some point in the storm, likely as soon as it started up. It was strange that he would have come here, or perhaps not. The trees were a few good kilometers away from the lodge, the best cover for a ways, and given the ice patches along the way, Harry had obviously walked for a while in the storm.

Mori reached out and shook Harry's shoulder a bit to wake him, shoving down his own ski mask as he felt the temperature starting to get to him. It was certainly too warm for the younger boy to still be in his snow gear!

Bleary green eyes opened and Harry grimaced slightly, realizing he'd fallen asleep with his contacts in. It took a moment for his vision to focus – why on earth was it so warm? – and decided that perhaps he wasn't at all surprised to find that Mori was hovering over him this time. Harry shifted slightly, tugging down his ski mask that had been trapping his breath and keeping his cheeks far too warm – they could heat up just fine without any interference – and nudged the goggles up to his forehead, seeing no reason to obstruct his vision any longer. His arms burned with the movement and his hand right hand screamed at even the slightest of twitches, but it had to be done.

"Mori-senpai," his voice was a little hoarse and his throat ached, but he kept the reaction down to a small grimace and rubbed at his neck with his left hand. No need to torture himself... was there? For some reason, he couldn't really remember. There was a lot of snow, and he'd been upset over something... a ferret? Malfoy. A full grimace fell upon his features as the scene blossomed in the fore of his mind. He'd punched Malfoy. Bastard though he was, Harry had taken himself below the Slytherin's level.

"Are you okay?" The openly concerned look on Mori's face threw Harry for enough of a loop that he forgot once more about punching Malfoy for about three seconds while he took an assessment of his physical condition. He was far too warm – he recalled using a lot of warming charms – and then there was the fact that his right hand really didn't want to be moved. He made to stand, but his legs wouldn't take his weight, either.

"Maybe not so much," Harry replied remorsefully. He was the king of all Gryffindoric fools, acting without thought and he didn't even know how long he had been running before the storm started! "I'll be fine, just give me a moment." Unfortunately, the muscle relaxant potions – well, they didn't actually relax muscles, they absorbed lactic acid, but the potions had been created and named before muggles even thought up the term – were with the rest of his medical kit at the lodge, so he had to hope that he hadn't done anything so bad that he couldn't walk back.

Mori leaned back on his heels, only gaining Harry about a foot of breathing room, but it was an improvement to Harry's overheating-cheeks problem which he sought to solve by forcing his protesting fingers to grab his wand from his sleeve and start removing the charms he had set up. He had melted all the snow at the base of the tree that he was leaning up against and then cast a drying charm on it, so when he was out of the pit – to think the snow was actually chin-deep was kind of daunting – he would probably fill it back in so that no one else could get stuck in it.

The second attempt to stand was no more successful than the first, and this time it was obvious that Mori noticed considering that the older boy then lifted Harry up and set him on top of the ledge of the pit before climbing out on his own, the process both helped and hurt by the slick, but solid, walls of ice.

"I'm really sorry about this Mori-senpai," Harry sighed when Mori lifted him again – bridal style again? He wasn't an invalid! He just... couldn't walk. "You shouldn't have to do this. In fact, you _don't_ have to do this."

"You're right," Mori answered and continued carrying the smaller boy back to the snow mobile.

Once seated, Harry curled in on himself, tugging his mask back up and the goggles down as the wind whipped by. Without the warming charms he was cold, but with them he was unbearably hot, and he couldn't reapply them with the ski instructor sitting just a foot away, driving the "snowmobile" (it was really more of a sled anyway). A particularly harsh gust caused him to shiver.

Seconds later Harry found himself scooted down the bench and pressed against Mori's side, cheeks flaring and shoulders stiff. He needed to revise his statement from that morning. The Fates were cruel bastards and were probably _cackling maniacally_ over his predicament. They deserved whatever could be thrown at them.

"Senpai, you don't –" Harry half expected that Mori wouldn't even hear his words as the wind whipped them away.

"I'm cold too," Mori had ducked his head down enough that his own words wouldn't be lost and Harry felt glad that his ski mask obscured the view of his cheeks. Of course Mori was cold! It was frigid out to begin with, and compounded with the biting wind it was no wonder. Merlin, Harry truly believed himself to be an idiot right then. A very self-absorbed idiot. Maybe Malfoy hadn't been so wrong on that count.

_Even after I punched Malfoy, he's still treating me the same,_ Harry thought with some small sigh. What had he done to deserve a friend like Mori? Probably nothing, and that made it worse. The world was give and take, and if Harry didn't give then the world would take indiscriminately.

With such morbid thoughts in mind, Harry didn't notice himself drifting off for the second time that day.

When next he awoke, Harry found himself lying on his bed in the lodge, which wasn't much of a surprise (though he was surprised to find that he had been divested of his snow gear). Haruhi informed him of what happened to Hikaru and the class president, which prompted him to send her to Soga with a couple of healing potions for his ankle, though he couldn't even open the pack they were in on his own because of his stiff and very bruised hand. He took a muscle relaxant potion and pondered how to get the bruise balm on his hand without making a mess of it (for he was in no way ambidextrous).

That problem was solved when Mori and Hani arrived to visit and saw him trying to open the small pot of balm. Mori took to caring for Harry's hand as Hani filled him in on all the goings on of the day, including Tamaki's arrival – they had called him when it was discovered that Hikaru and Harry were missing, and while Harry wasn't part of the "family", the half-Frenchman had been happy when Haruhi told them Harry was okay – and the fact that Hikaru had finally confessed his feelings to Haruhi.

"And after you ran off, everyone was really confused since no one heard what that boy said to make you punch him," Hani stated in an off-handed manner while munching on the cake he'd brought up with him (he had given Harry a piece that remained untouched). "Well, Takashi did, but he won't say. Everyone is pretty sure that it must have been really bad though. A few people ran after you, and after a minute one of the girls went to check what happened to that boy, but he was gone. The girls figure that he must have left when you did, but he's a wizard like you, isn't he?"

"Aa... I mean, yeah," Harry nodded absently. He hadn't even thought of the safety of the students by leaving them with Malfoy unattended, but apparently such a worry was moot to begin with. "He's Malfoy Draco, the son of Malfoy Lucius and just as bad, if at a lower level given his age. He... I went to school with him and we're as different as night and day." _Or that's what I thought,_ Harry added mentally. "At Hogwarts he was a Slytherin and I was a Gryffindor, generally considered rivals, and we were at each others' throats a lot, but until today it never... _I_ never... it's never come to blows. We've exchanged a hex or two, but I never actually..."

Harry ducked his head, cringing, and wished that he had his mask to hide behind still. He hadn't meant to bring up that bit at all, but his mouth decided to go on without checking with his brain, it seemed. Suddenly, he realized that his hand was still in Mori's grasp, and – looking down – coated properly in the balm. He hadn't noticed.

"Thank you for your help, Mori-senpai, and thank you for filling me in, Hani-senpai," Harry nodded to each, not raising his eyes to meet theirs. "I think I'll go to sleep now. It's getting a little late after all. I'm sure I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright, Harry-chan, we'll see you tomorrow," Hani hopped off of the chair he had been sitting on and dragged Mori off of his seat on Harry's bed, waving behind him and shutting the door. Harry laid back and felt something poking his shoulder. He turned his head and saw a book, a history book in fact.

He rolled out of bed again and swore lightly to himself, grabbing the book and set out of his room with a wobbling gait. Luckily, Hani and Mori were hardly even on their way down the hall.

"Mori-senpai," Harry called. Mori turned in response and Harry held up the book in his grasp. "You forgot this. I said you could borrow it, didn't I?"

"You did," Mori nodded. It was odd that he responded like that when the usual "Aa" would have sufficed, but Harry simply made his way down the hall and handed him the book, not meeting the older boy's eyes.

"Have a good evening," Harry bid them and turned around to get back to his room and bed – his legs still ached and would for a good while yet – but was stopped by a small hand on his wrist. He turned around and looked Hani straight in the eye. "Yes, Hani-senpai?"

"What did that boy say that made you hit him?" It was an honest question, and probably one that deserved an answer. Harry had bared his soul before these two more than anyone else save for his make-shift family and Hermione, and in all honesty he felt he should answer.

"If there was an insult worse than what he said, I can't think of it," Harry informed the small Host with full honesty who only nodded to the admission. "Good night, Hani-senpai, Mori-senpai."

It wasn't until Harry was properly ensconced in blankets that he realized just why he'd hit Malfoy, and he almost laughed.

He was defending Mori's honor.

**Author's Note: Ohs noes! Drama! Heheh, well... yeah. Drama and cute Mori/Harry moments are always good, right? Yeah... this story isn't at all my sort of thing and yet I've stuck with it for twenty chapters now.**

**Even though Hikaru didn't share a room with Haruhi, he still didn't sleep as well as usual, so he was still short with Soga (not as bad though) and he had more energy so he didn't pass out when Mori found them. Just clarifying that for the manga readers.**

**On that note, another chapter of OHSHC was posted! :D I read it when I was about halfway through writing this chapter. Happiness abounds. Except it ended on a cliffhanger... I think I'm going to leave at least part of that chapter out of the canon of this story. It'll take forever before chapter 64 comes out, and I'd rather not have deal with that.**

(1) Could "The Question" be "what room does Harry Potter stay in at a ski lodge?" We shall never know...

(2) Copy and paste the link following this to see Mori with his snowboard, and hit the back button on that page to see Hani's (erase spaces and place underscores in place of the dashes): onemanga . com / Ouran-High-School-Host-Club / 61 / 16 / (and on that note, you lot really ought to read the manga! Or at least chapters 57-63 so you get all the behind-the-scenes stuff that I'm not mentioning... though not all of it counts anymore, but still.)

(3) I don't know Latin, so I got this on a translator. Sorry if that's not how it would actually work, but it's supposed to mean "With Our Lives Defend" which I think is fitting given what we know of Harry and James (since they are the only Potters we know canonically aside from Harry's kids who, as you can tell from the "Harry is gay" thing, will not exist. And no, I don't do MPreg. It's disturbing on far too many levels. Maybe adoption, but I'm not going to write about that... probably.)


	21. Chapter 21

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter. _**Slightly filler-ish for the first... half I guess with many thoughts and a bit of information dumping, but it gets better!**_

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 21 _(This fic is now old enough to drink!)_

Despite his little revelation on the reasons behind his actions, Harry spent the rest of the ski trip brooding and generally avoiding people. He did work more on snowboarding, if only because he knew that he would get over this little fit eventually, and when he did he would regret not properly learning to do something that he found so fun (or that's what he told himself). It was a difficult to avoid the Hosts, and not just because he didn't actually want to. Well, that could be part of it, but in general they were surprisingly good at finding him.

Aside from the fact that he was rooming with Haruhi and therefore couldn't actually avoid her, he was often "kidnapped" by the twins when they wanted him to do something or if they felt he was being too antisocial. So, essentially every time they saw him, unless he was already accompanied by one of the other Hosts. Hani and Mori also were in the habit of finding him and deciding that they were going to further his training with snowboarding since he'd only actually learned the very basics from Mori in their initial lesson. He didn't have a valid excuse to decline, and they always managed to catch him when there were other members of his class within easy viewing distance, so there was no chance of him actually getting away if he wanted to. Even Tamaki actually sought him out once or twice during meals!

So, all in all, Harry managed to succeed in escaping human company for perhaps three hours a day in ten-to-twenty minute chunks, which didn't allow for proper brooding. And, really, he didn't need that much brooding time when he thought of it. Dudley had hit people because he could or after the occasional perceived personal insult (usually regarding his weight). While Malfoy's snide remark was probably meant to be more of a comment on Harry's inability to make friends, he had punched the git because of what was insinuated about Mori, so when he thought of it, perhaps he wasn't _that_ similar to Dudley in his response, which did serve to lighten his mood.

No, what had him down was a combination of several smaller things that wouldn't have bothered anyone else in the least. In fact, most people would be happy with what he was agonizing over!

Harry had loyal friends – people who actually _liked_ him – that stood by him even when he came off as a short tempered brat. Malfoy hadn't done anything to Harry but insult him. Draco hadn't retaliated against the helpless muggles who Harry _knew_ he would normally have loved to torment. And, lastly, Mori had come after him when he ran off and got himself in trouble.

Well... that last one wasn't really something he was brooding over, or at least part of it. The concern that Mori had shown by going after Harry, carrying him back to the snowmobile/sled, and even tending to his wounds made his stomach flutter in a way that wasn't at all unpleasant. On that count, what he was thinking on was the guilt associated with making the older boy worried and what he had said while carrying Harry to the sled. Harry had said that Mori shouldn't and didn't have to save him, and Mori _had_ agreed, but Harry didn't actually know to which part of the statement (that Harry _shouldn't_ have put himself in a situation that necessitated saving, or that Mori hadn't had to do the saving but had anyway), and it made his brain hurt and the flutters die a most painful death. With the flutters went his appetite, and yet Harry couldn't even get away with eating less than normal because, as many people in his life had said, he ate too little to begin with and someone always noticed.

However, the first few points – that he had friends, Malfoy had stuck to insults and didn't _do_ anything other than piss Harry off – were quite important and Harry found himself losing quite a lot of sleep over that segment of his vacation. The next week was so full of Sirius – who, once again, flew Tonks and Remus up for a visit as well as four Weasleys (the twins, Bill, and Charlie) – and Christmas shopping that he had little time to do his brooding except at night, but he quickly became exhausted and simply slept through Christmas Eve, no matter how many flash bangs Fred and George set off in his room (the one time they did wake him up they left with their tails between their legs - literally).

On Christmas, he woke to find all of the "family" in his room, Weasleys, Sirius, and Tonks jumping on the enormous bed and Remus looking on with an amused expression. With a groan, Harry rolled off the bed before Sirius could actually jump _on_ him, and caught him on the ground before grabbing his glasses and managing to get a proper view of everyone.

"Can't you lot wake me up like _normal_ people? You know, knock on the door, shout in my ear, pail of water over the head?" Harry sighed as the twins looped arms under his armpits and started dragging him to the nearest floo. Sirius had finished preparing his house while 1-A was in the mountains, and to celebrate there were six house guests staying over for Christmas. How he'd managed to actually get them all, Harry couldn't deign to even _imagine_ knowing since he'd obviously only started arranging it that same month.

"Now Harry, you know Charlie, Remus and I would have tried," Bill protested, "but we know when we're beaten. Charlie and I just figured we could go with that muggle saying: If you can't beat the snot out of them, might as well... well, I don't actually know the phrase, but you know what I mean, right?"

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," Harry replied, not even bothering to fight the twins as they dragged him down the halls of his home clad only in pajama bottoms. There was no point. "You must be spending too much time in stuffy tombs or under the sun."

The argument went on playfully as Harry woke up – when they arrived at Sirius home, which was twice as exorbitant as Harry's if not more, he was presented with a mug of coffee, which helped some – and the Gryffindor Golden Boy found himself enjoying the presence of the people who actually cared for him. The Weasleys were a good family, Ron and Ginny had just been misguided by their faith in Dumbledore. Harry knew this was the truth, but he doubted if he would ever forgive them regardless.

"Bet you five galleons that our lovebirds over there are together by New Years," Charlie muttered behind Harry as they watched Tonks opening the gift from Remus – a moon pendant. She latched onto his neck and gave him a sound kiss on the lips.

"No bet," Harry replied easily and noted that Remus did not push the woman away. "I've already got one with Sirius that says they'll be shacking up by Boxing Day. I'm fairly certain that he's winning that bet, mind you." Harry took another deep gulp of his coffee and almost choked as his phone started singing about cake. He hadn't been sure that it would even work at Sirius' place since the warding was heavier and general magic content higher, but apparently that had been accounted for by whatever warding team the animagus had hired.

"Harry-chan! Happy Christmas!" Hani squealed before Harry had even managed to get the phone to his ear.

"Happy Christmas to you, too, Hani-senpai," Harry responded, smiling warmly as he did so. It was Christmas after all; he could brood at some point before the holiday was over, surely, so it was no hurry. "How has your week been?"

"Great! Everyone's together, and Takashi and I are taking care of our cousins. Hitomi-nee-chan had a baby in October and he's really cute!" Hani chirped happily. When concentrating, Harry could hear the babble of children on the other end of the phone. "His name is Kanaye-chan. I'll send you a picture of him!"

"Alright Hani-senpai!" Well, it was a given that Hani, being from an extensive family and being as childish as he was, would like children a lot, so it was no surprise that he was would so happy about being an uncle. He had brought in pictures in October after the baby was born, but he hadn't actually been named yet, so Hani had been anxious as soon as his sister said he could "find out when he met the baby." "I'm glad you're having a good Christmas. You can send me a picture when we're off the phone, okay?"

"Right, Harry-chan," Harry had the feeling that Hani was nodding emphatically or something. "How have you been? You weren't very happy when we left the mountains even though everyone tried to cheer you up. Did we do something wrong, or –"

"Nothing of the sort, Senpai," Harry placated the older boy, which would likely have been easier if he could do so visually, but it was good enough. "My mood had nothing to do with all of you, and I really do appreciate the effort you put into cheering me up. I just had some things to think about after that encounter with Malfoy." He still did, but Harry wasn't going to mention that. "My holiday is going well. Sirius invited Remus, Tonks, Fred, and George over to his home for the day, and he even got Fred and George's older brothers, Bill and Charlie, to come up too. Charlie works with dragons in Romania and Bill works on warding in Egypt. It's pretty cool to hear about."

"Dragons?" Of course that would have caught Hani's attention. When Harry had mentioned them – after Hani had asked him where the scars on his arms _really_ came from – the small boy was suddenly more interested in dragons than even magical sweets, arithmancy, and dueling.

"Yup, I'm sure that you can ask Charlie all about them sometime," Harry had to fight down a laugh. Maybe getting a full twenty-four hours of sleep had perked him up? And it was Christmas after all. Ever since he'd started Hogwarts, Yule had been a happy time despite the little things tended to happen (finding the Mirror of Erised, polyjuicing in Crabbe and Goyle, McGonagall confiscating his Firebolt, and the Yule Ball not being exactly the best of moments), so he supposed it was enough to put him in a more positive mood.

"How long are they going to be visiting? Maybe Hika-chan and Kao-chan will invite them to the New Year's party!" Hani sounded quite bubbly at the thought, though Harry was feeling rather... confused.

"New Year's party? Are they having one?" He hadn't heard of it. A small stab of... something hit him. Well he'd never been invited to a party before anyway, since all the ones he'd actually been to were open-parties where invitations were superfluous and the surprise party Sirius had thrown him that year. Really, he ought to be used to such things. And yet he felt a bit sad that he _hadn't_ been invited to this party.

"You don't...? Hika-chan was supposed to invite you," Hani's pout was audible. "He must have been distracted because he confessed to Haru-chan. I can call Kao-chan for you so he can invite you properly!"

"Alright, Hani-senpai," Harry didn't want to impose, but it really would be more of an imposition to say no to Hani. It was one of the unwritten rules of the universe after all. "You mentioned that Mori-senpai is with you? Tell him I said hi, okay? I have to get back to the celebrations over here, and I'm sure your little cousins are clamoring for your attention."

"Uh-huh. You're on speaker phone, actually. Say bye to Harry-chan!"

A loud chorus of "Good bye, Harry-chan!" in varying levels of comprehensibility made their way into Harry's ear-drum, causing him to pull back from the phone a bit and switch ears just in time to hear a polite "Happy Christmas, Harry" in what was unmistakably Mori's voice before the phone clicked to signal the other end was off. He could help but chuckle.

"Good call then? Was that one of your muggles?" Charlie asked curiously. While Fred and George had apparently already been well-versed in the usage of telephones before Sirius ever contacted them to have them come up for a visit, Charlie and Bill had both been astonished when Sirius had Harry explain how they worked (the older man claimed he couldn't do the wonders of muggle technology their due justice).

"Yes, though I'd prefer it if you didn't call them 'my muggles.' That was one of the seniors, Haninozuka Mitsukuni," Harry explained easily. He'd gone from being anti-social so many months ago to feeling more comfortable in social interactions than he could ever remember being at Hogwarts. So strange. "He and Mori-senpai – he's the other senior, Morinozuka Takashi – are taking care of their cousins and such apparently, and wanted to wish me a happy Christmas."

"Too bad they're graduating in a few months," Sirius mused from the ground where Fred and George had hogtied him with magically-enhanced silly string. He had spent the past three minutes trying to escape, but to no avail, though Remus was taking pity on him and cutting the bonds finally. "Takashi seems like a good guy, and Mitsukuni is just about the most adorable kid to ever walk the earth. But I'm sure you won't get out of touch with them."

Sirius didn't see the point in using suffixes for friends or people he generally liked, and he'd always been the sort to call anyone who he didn't _dis_like by their first name or – in the case of good friends – a nickname. Harry had often wondered if, since the only people who ever called Mori and Hani by their given names were family, that it was actual a privilege or just something that had developed from their being in the Host Club to give them shorter names to pronounce and bring up Hani's "cute" factor by having a diminutive name.

Tonks nodded her assent to Sirius' evaluation. "As if Harry would let such good friends get away!"

It went unsaid that Harry hadn't contacted _anyone_ who he considered even friendly without Sirius having forced him to confront them since he woke up from the coma. He hadn't sent so much as an owl to anyone who didn't already know how to contact him, even Remus and Tonks when they had been the ones who were around after he initially moved in with Sirius at the house in Ireland.

It simply wasn't something that was discussed.

However, Harry felt that she was right and only nodded when she did cast an "I said something stupid, didn't I?" glance in his direction that spoke his agreement to both the statement and her reaction. Really, he'd actually had friends for... what, two months? And he couldn't imagine getting out of touch with Hani and Mori most of all the Hosts, a sentiment that he felt would only have increased by the time the seniors graduated.

He was pulled from his thoughts as something came whizzing for his head, and Harry reached out to grab it without a second thought, a mere instant before Charlie – whose reactions were similar being a seeker and dragon keeper – and stared slightly flustered at the parchment wrapped package in his hands. Bill, the thrower of said object, was grinning ear to ear, and with good reason. Harry had figured that he wouldn't get a Weasley sweater this year since Mrs. Weasley wouldn't know how to reach him and since it had been a year since their last correspondence – Harry sent her a letter thanking her for the previous year's sweater and asked if she could keep Ron from sending him hexed hats in the future – so it was a surprise to find what was obviously a Weasley sweater in his lap.

It was the same shade of green as usual, and as he pulled it on he found it was far too large, as always. In fact, it was probably larger on him that any previous now that he got a good look at it. While he appreciated that it covered his chest – he was getting a bit chilled – it was a bit much that it seemed at least five inches too long, several too broad of shoulder, and he had to roll up the sleeves to see his hands.

"I'm drowning," he deadpanned with a small smile. It was likely that Mrs. Weasley was still using Ron for her reference to her sizing for him, then. At least he'd had hope with most of the previous sweaters (the third year sweater was even too small for him now!), but he had a feeling he would _never_ get to be as tall as this sweater painted him to be. Maybe he could use it as a sweater to keep warm just at home though.

"That's what we told her," Fred snorted with a grin. "But as soon –"

"As we told her that you –"

"Had grown a couple inches, she was –"

"Sure that you would be as tall –"

"As Ron by Christmas. Looks like –"

"You haven't grown an inch, though," George finished with a snicker.

"Three sixteenths of an inch since July," Harry affirmed. "That makes nearly five inches since we moved to Japan, and nearly a foot since I entered the wizarding world. Not exactly impressive, but I'm about average for a woman now, so it could be worse." He shrugged with the statement. It was better than being the shortest wizard he knew (outside of several partial-humans such as Professor Flitwick, that is).

They all had a good laugh at Harry's glib comparison and went on with the festivities, all talk of overlarge sweaters and friendships dissolving forgotten in the bustle of opening various gifts and glomps. (Remus, still denying his undying love for Tonks – Sirius' words – took it upon himself to give everyone a kiss on the cheek for their gifts so that he could give one to Tonks as well without seeming suspect.) All went well, fun was had as well as snowball fights, and Harry completely forgot the conversation with Hani by the time Sirius was sending everyone off to their guest rooms. Harry tried to protest when Sirius shoved him in "his" room, since he didn't actually use it, but Sirius claimed that it was decorated for his use and so it would be used at least once or so help him Merlin, Harry would wake to dog slobber until he was fifty.

Needless to say, that stopped Harry's reticence. He'd found that he enjoyed Sirius' company a lot more when they weren't living together, and so was loath to do anything that might change that arrangement. The idea of Sirius invading his room every morning was disturbing enough.

Not that his room _wasn't_ invaded the next morning, it just wasn't the person he expected. Tonks was sitting on his stomach cross-legged and looking at him with violet eyes, her hair – which had been red and green stripped the day before – back to its usual make-everyone's-eyes-bleed shade of pink and properly spiked. Harry felt his lungs were mostly deflated and quickly shoved her off, glancing out the wall – the entire North wall of "his" room was a window – and sighed. He was okay in big rooms, but windows just made him feel more secure.

"Mind telling me why you were sitting on me?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes slightly as he sat up, most of his covers tangled about his feet. Tonks stole the pillow he'd been using (there were, however, three more, so he didn't mind) and sat on it in his stead.

"You, Mr I-can't-talk-to-anyone-or-even-tell-my-godfather-that-I'm-moving-out," she started, causing Harry to grimace slightly, "have a crush. A crush that said godfather and I suspect has been going on for months and you have done nothing about. That doesn't seem too healthy to me, but what do I know?" She sent him an impish grin, but Harry kept his deadpan expression. Really, he knew he was dense sometimes and that Sirius had recognized his crush before he had, but did she have to rub it in? Harry was too dangerous to be around in the first place!

"That's all well and good, Tonks," Harry sighed, picking at a stitch in his comforter, "but I don't see the point of your statement." And he really didn't. Was she trying to convince him to divulge who said crush was on? Or did she think that he hadn't recognized his feelings for a certain-someone and was trying to open his eyes for him? Worse, she might actually be about to try convincing him to tell Mori about his feelings.

Sadly (or not, depending on one's perspective), he was right.

"I've had a crush on Remus since I was four years old and I told him so immediately," Tonks held a small smirk on her face. "The first time he rejected me, I was a heartbroken preschooler, but I went on with my life and fell in love all over again. It just so happened that I fell in love with the person who broke my heart to begin with." Funny, Tonks had never struck Harry as one to explain things through anecdotes.

"You knew Remus when you were four?" Harry tried to change the subject, but his thinly veiled attempt was just that.

"Of course I did! He was Sirius' best friend outside of your old man, and my mum was Sirius' favorite cousin. Mind, I'm only six years older than you, so Remus was just a year or so out of Hogwarts, and he looked a lot less sick back then," if nothing else, Harry had to admire her for her dedication. "Don't change the subject. Bottling up your feelings isn't a good thing, Harry. I'm borderline socially acceptable and living a pretty good life, and I'm open about just about everything, and Snape was the most closed off person _ever_. Do you want to be Snape when you grow up?"

The mental image sent Harry's nose crinkling before he could even think about sending a cutesy response that would rile her up. "Ew, no," Harry grimaced. "You've seen his hair. Plus, I don't like the idea of being blown up."

"Exactly," Tonks nodded at her own pseudo-wisdom. "So, people who keep their feelings inside explode and those who don't are cool. Like me." She grinned and – in a squint – took on a look that made her look like a movie star before she shifted back, shaking the full blonde hair that she had been sporting for all of three seconds back to her pink pixy cut. "What have you learned today?"

"Not to give you sugar in the morning."

And with that, Harry slid out of bed and started looking for glasses. He was sure he'd put them on the nightstand, but he couldn't seem to find that. With a sigh, he reached his hand up the baggy sleeve of his sweater for his wand and stopped abruptly. The holster was empty. He had put his wand on the nightstand too, and it wasn't there.

"Looking for something?" Harry half expected to see Tonks holding the stick of holly in her hand and cackling maniacally, but apparently she knew better than to keep his wand where he could see it. He glared a glare reminiscent of the Potions Master who had been the topic of their discussion less than a minute before, but Tonks didn't quail. "Your glasses are on the other nightstand, by the way."

Harry quickly collected his glasses and glared properly, though he didn't expect his improved vision to help in his effort. It didn't.

"And my wand?" He demanded. His wand, eleven inches, holly, with the feather from Fawkes and brother wand to Voldemort's own, _his wand_ that he had used for over five years _was not in his grasp and if she did anything to it_ -! The wide grin on her face said it all. "Tonks, _what did you do with my wand_?" The words were hissed, and for a moment he though he might have been speaking parseltongue, but since the words seemed to have been understood, he knew it wasn't the case.

"I'm holding it as ransom," those words made Harry feel like he was going to explode. Ransom. His wand being held for _ransom_! "Indefinitely. You aren't getting it back until you fess up to lover-boy. Sirius told me who he thinks it is and I have my own ideas. But if you don't tell him, whoever he is, _I_ am going to tell who _I_ think it is that you like, and if I'm wrong..."

Harry had figured the only reason he ever had to faint would be because he was in a small enclosed space, but this was, apparently, not the case.

Lucky for him that there was a bed there.

* * *

"... It's just a regular New Year's Party," Kaoru droned over the phone, bored by whatever else he was doing. "Semi-formal attire, food, we've invited just about the entire school and not just girls so you won't be the only non-Host guy, though it _is_ a Club function. There's going to be dancing, fireworks, the usual things. But it's a no-adults party. Mom is hosting a function for the parents of the people who are coming in the first ballrooms, so your friends can all go there. I already talked to Mom about it, and she said that she would love to meet 'the infamous Sirius Black'."

It was still Boxing Day. Harry had been woken up by his phone ringing as Kaoru called to "formally" invite him to the Hitachiin New Year's Party that Hikaru had apparently forgotten to tell him about. Harry was caught by a problem a bit earlier in Kaoru's little informational dump, though.

"Kaoru-kun, I can't dance," Harry grimaced from his end of the phone, fending off the Puking Pastille that George was trying to stuff in his mouth as he spoke. When he heard Kaoru start protesting, Harry clarified. "I mean it. I _can't_ dance. Hogwarts had a Yule Ball once, two years ago, and since I was part of the Tournament that we were hosting, I had to be part of the opening dance. That one dance was the only one I ever did. I spent all of five minutes waltzing with a girl in my year while _she_ led _me_ and I still stepped on her toes."

It couldn't be helped that Kaoru burst out laughing. "Really? But... shouldn't they have made sure that you knew how to dance if they wanted to make a good impression on everyone? You don't put a kid in a t-shirt and jeans on the runway with models wearing the latest fashions anymore than someone _smart_ putting a complete newbie in the dance floor. I'm guessing everyone else knew how to dance properly?"

"Even Fred and George, but all the witches and wizards I know who can dance don't know how to teach someone to dance. Trust me, attempts were made," Harry affirmed and slapped at George's hand just before the little orange candy would have entered his mouth. "It was pretty embarrassing, I guess, but I only danced that one dance and spent the rest of the evening talking with some mates. The... attempts weren't as public." Well, Ron, and Hermione for about a minute, and a few Gryffindors saw his embarrassment, but that was it. Sirius' attempt was not to be mentioned. Ever. "So I'm going to skip on the dancing bit."

That was not the right answer, and Harry found himself being told that Kaoru would arrange for a dance instructor for him ("It has to be someone in the club... but Haruhi and Hani are the only ones shorter than you, and she doesn't know how to be the submissive plus she's still only knows a basic waltz, and Hani is way too energetic to not lead... the only one who's used to being led by someone smaller is... I'll get back to you in half an hour Harry-kun!") before he flipped his phone shut and tackled George to the ground, took the orange candy, and shoved it up the older boy's nose.

Just because his wand was a hostage did not mean that he was defenseless! He was still quick as hell.

Half an hour later found Harry sitting in the second greenhouse of his manor tending to the Laughing Lilies that seemed to be in a spat with the Tussling Tulips. It was very strange even to him to play peacemaker between flowers, but it was easier than dealing with Fred and George. Not that he didn't love them with all his heart, because they were good guys usually, but sometimes – like when they were bored – they were just too much. His phone rang and he set down the treaty that he was setting up for his flower beds to move to where the maniacal laughter of the Lilies couldn't be heard.

"Hello?" He asked the phone, expected Kaoru or even Hikaru (not that he could tell the difference over the phone) to answer but it was, surprisingly, or perhaps not since the universe just _loved_ to stick his nose in it, Mori instead.

"Where do you live?" Mori's voice ground out through the phone line. Harry sat blinking for a moment before regaining his bearings. It was a rather random question from his point of view, but he figured that either Mori would elucidate _after_ the semi-secret location of Harry's home was divulged (only semi-secret because it could be found by someone who knew him fairly well if they looked in the phone book) or else Harry would find out on his own eventually if at all. So he gave the address first and _then_ asked why. "I'm your dance instructor." (1)

"Oh," Harry wasn't sure if it was a happy "oh" or a confused "oh" since it was kind of flat, but he smiled afterward, or forced himself to. Either Fate or Kaoru was conspiring with Tonks, and he honestly had no idea which was more likely. "Alright, well, can you bring Hani-senpai as well when you come? I'm sure he'd love the opportunity to talk to Charlie about dragons. Anytime you can make it is fine with me."

An hour later Harry was finishing up the peace treaty between the two opposing flowerbeds which was signed with the nectar of the original sprout of each tribe and nodded succinctly to each grouping before he stood up and stretched. He turned about, ready to get into some clothes that were not covered in pollen and dirt, only to find himself face to face with two very curious Hosts.

"Erm... afternoon," he hadn't expected them to come today, or that they would come without calling him to at least inform him that they were going to be there, but he shook it off and smiled at them both. Okay, so it had only been about a week since they had last seen each other, but it was nice to see them all the same. "Sorry you had to come all the way out to the greenhouses for me. I was dealing with a peace treaty between the Laughing Lilies and Tussling Tulips. Apparently the Lilies have been switching onto low chuckles with the season, but since it's supposed to be summer in this greenhouse, it's aggravating the Tulips, who decided that they didn't have a big enough flowerbed..."

He trailed off. He was talking about _flowers_ for pity's sake! Of course they were looking at him strangely; muggles didn't have sentient plant-life (so far as _they_ knew anyway). His mouth snapped shut and he struggled to keep down a blush. He'd been babbling about the opinions of flowers.

"How did you find me anyway? Are the twins still here?" Harry asked curiously as the thought struck him. Hani immediately returned to hyperactive child mode and grinned at him.

"No, it was their brother, Charu-chan! (2) He showed us here and told me about the Horntail that you fought! He said it was really big!" Hani was like a kid in a candy store talking about the giant reptiles that had teeth that weren't much smaller than he was. "But he wouldn't come in with us. He said it was our own funeral or something like that."

Harry grimaced. "It's hardly my fault that he wasn't paying attention when I told him not to get between the Venomous Tentacular and the Day-Glo Daisies," he protested weakly. "And I got him the antidote in time, so it wasn't _that_ bad..." he stopped again and realized they had no idea what he was talking about. Spending a week with people who knew so much more about magic than he did had spoiled him, really. "Right... anyway, welcome to the second greenhouse, where I keep some of the more temperamental plants. Greenhouse one is mostly benevolent plants and some magical shrubs, and green house three is a place even I don't enter. The green houses are licensed for growing materials for the potions Potter-Evans creates, and have a Herbologist in every week to make sure that everything is going alright... let's leave then, shall we?"

He coughed lightly in his hand and snapped his fingers. A small "pop" sounded, just a bit quieter than when Harry apparated, and a creature roughly two feet in height with large, floppy ears, bright blue eyes, and a squashed-tomato shaped nose appeared at his side.

"Yes Master Harry Potter, sir?" Tipsy asked as she looked between her master and said master's friends. "Is you wanting Tipsy to get you something?"

"If you wouldn't mind terribly much," Harry scratched the back of his head nervously. He felt awkward about ordering the elves to do anything in the first place, but even more so with Hani and Mori right there. Still, he wasn't going to lie to them. "Would you please make sure that no one intrudes on the living room in the first floor and clear out a fairly large space in that same room? Also, could you get Charlie to meet us in the first greenhouse? If Charlie and Hani," he indicated the person in question, "want any refreshments it would be great if you could send Rory over with them. I can call for any more assistance."

"Of course Master Harry Potter, sir! You is always being too nice to a house elf!"

"Thank you, Tipsy," with the thanks in the open, Tipsy popped away to do as her master tasked her and Harry cast a wary eye to his compatriots. "That was Tipsy, she's a house-elf. Basically, they are small creatures who live to clean, cook, and generally serve people. It's in their nature. But... there's no way to describe their existence but as 'slavery.' Tipsy, Rory, and Dinky are the house elves bound to the Head, Heir, and other offspring of the Potter family." He inhaled and Harry cast his gaze down at his feet. "Don't get me wrong, if I could free them and have it be a positive influence on their lives, I would, but a house-elf can only be freed if given clothes, and most go mad within a week of their freedom. They depend on the magic of a wizarding home and the bond of a wizard's magic to anchor them; elves that die from freedom become malevolent and semi-malevolent spirits like ghouls and poltergeists. I..."

This was the moment of truth, he supposed. Would they accept this part of wizarding life or be horrified and walk off? If they had let him know they were coming then instead of later, he could have waited for that particular revelation, but Fate _did_ have it out for him. That had apparently been established before he was even born, and Harry had no choice but to accept it. Still...

He looked up through his fringe and flinched. They were horrified, it was obvious. Hani had this wide-eyed look that spoke of his disgust, and Mori had a firm set to his jaw that was surely not a good sign. Sagging, Harry took a step back from his friends and turned his attention back to the Lilies, which were snickering at his plight while the Tulips cheered on his emotional struggle, a few of the ones who were bored with him starting a wrestling match in the back corner to entertain their fellows. They were easier to look at than his friends-who-were-probably-no-longer-his. At least all the flowers could do was mock him.

Suddenly, Harry felt himself unbalancing as he was tackled from the side and he cart-wheeled his arms futilely, hoping to _not_ fall over the Tulips or Lilies, though he knew the effort was futile as the Lilies began guffawing. It was a lucky break that Mori grabbed his wrist and torso and pulled his up before he landed though. Harry quickly collapsed and found that Hani had not, in fact, tackled him, but glomped him as he felt small arms were wrapped around his waist while Hani seemed to think he needed comforting. It was mind boggling.

"Poor Harry-chan! You want to help them but you c-can't!" Hani wailed into Harry's shirt. Harry could do little more than blink at the boy and wait until he stopped crying, though he did rub slow circles on the boy's back as he figured out what to do. Admittedly, Harry did want to help house-elves – after Hermione's death he'd read everything he could on house-elves and started up an international SPEW for elf rights – but he was surprised that Hani, and likely Mori, had seen it that way. Most muggles would be tearing him apart for having slaves, and yet Hani was crying for _him_. Again, mind boggling.

When Hani crawled off his lap, the Lilies could be heard giggling. Harry stood from the ground, dusting the loam off the back of his pants and pulling Hani to his feet. Mori had already picked up Usa-chan and handed her to the no-longer-distraught boy before Harry started leading them out of the second greenhouse and into the first where Charlie was leaning against an orange tree with one of said fruit in hand.

"Charlie, I hear you've already met Hani-senpai and Mori-senpai?" Harry asked as they approached, Harry making sure to keep them away from the mandrake enclosure. They were the only dangerous plants in this greenhouse, and tripping over one would knock them all out since the plants were still infants.

"Yup," Charlie peeled off some of the orange peel with a knife that he kept in his boot. "You're coming with me then, Mitsukuni? I have an album of some of the dragons I work with over at Sirius' place if you want me to grab that." Hani, of course, was ecstatic and went bouncing along beside Charlie as he talked about a certain Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert.

Harry sighed and turned to Mori. He could confess now, get it over with, not get dancing lessons, and get his wand back. He'd already had one brush with losing Mori that day, what was another? He didn't even know what the older boy actually felt regarding Tipsy; in fact, for all he knew Mori merely hadn't said anything because Hani hadn't!

"Would you like a tour of the house first, or should I just take you to where Tipsy is setting up a room for us before I go and change?" Harry asked. He decided that it was probably a bad idea to make Mori go running out (not that Mori would since he was Mori, but he would want to leave, no doubt) since he'd already sent Hani off with Charlie. He could figure out how to get his wand back without embarrassing himself, right?

Mori just gave a noncommittal shrug and Harry sighed, knowing he wouldn't get a more definitive answer than that and instead proceeded to lead the taller boy through the green house, pointing out interesting plants as they went on or telling Mori to be careful with where he placed his feet in certain areas because of a mischievous Tripping Vine and the like. The green houses were quite extensive, especially with the charms set up to enlarge certain portions for plants that were going to grow a lot, so it took a good five minutes to get even halfway across.

Suddenly, as Harry was passing the Rainbow Rosebushes, he realized that Mori was no longer following in his wake and turned about. Mori was standing ten steps back from Harry and staring at a point a bit to the left and behind Harry. To most people, the look he bore – a slightly-tighter jaw than normal, eyes marginally wider, and shoulders stiff – wouldn't even be notable, but Harry had spent quite a while just watching Mori and had learned a bit about his body language. Whatever he was seeing he didn't like.

Harry turned again to try and see whatever it was that Mori was looking at, but he couldn't really pinpoint anything. The Roses took up both sides of the path for a while, and beyond that was the ponds where the lily pads and cat tails grew, but nothing that would really draw any such look from the Wild type. It was a conundrum.

"What's up, Senpai?" Harry asked curiously. Really, he didn't see what was bothering Mori.

Mori kept his eyes trained on the spot where Harry simply couldn't see anything wrong and it took a moment before he responded with, "Bee."

For, indeed, there was a bee sitting in the rosebushes, buzzing about and collected nectar while spreading pollen. There were a couple of honey bee hives in each greenhouse to help with pollination and provide fresh honey, and they had a calming draught mixed in with their water supply so that they wouldn't try to sting Harry or the elves when they entered. Nothing to worry about, really.

"Oh... you're afraid of bees?" Harry found the idea slightly humorous, but didn't laugh. Firstly, that would be rude, and second, fears such as that were serious things. Harry was afraid of enclosed spaces and would faint. He'd had traumatic experiences with them; who was to say that Mori hadn't had a distressing experience with bees? "I'll lead us around then." So he did, though it tacked on another couple of minutes to their journey as they went around the Roses and through the poppies instead, which were on the far end from the hives. (3)

When they were free of the stifling greenhouses and back into Harry's moderately-heated home, he opted to go for the tour option since he figured that at the very least he ought to show Mori where to find the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, since Harry had only shown him around the first two floors (no need to show him the more private third floor, or Harry's room), Harry led Mori into the living room where he had asked Tipsy to clear a space for them and went off to change into something not covered in dirt and bits of plant life.

Upon his return, Harry found Mori was sitting easily on one of the couches that hadn't been removed and eating a biscuit from a tray that was doubtlessly put in front of him by an overenthusiastic Tipsy or Dinky. Rory was the odd duck of the three, in that he was less inclined to service than most elves. Harry suspected that he was probably the only one that would go insane if he decided to free them, and he was slowly probing that avenue to see if it would be possible. Rory wasn't exactly a Dobby, but he seemed the sort of elf that could do well for himself out of the house, and he could easily become a banner to show what an independent house-elf could do.

Mori stood from the couch and finished his biscuit, and the lesson began. Harry immediately decided that dancing was an awkward affair, even it was just a waltz. First of all, with his hand on Mori's waist and Mori's hand on his shoulder, it felt oddly intimate. Secondly, since he was shorter than Mori and leading, it probably wasn't how he would actually dance if he did at all. Third, being told what to do _and_ being the one to lead was a very strange thing to begin with. He glared at his rebellious feet and concentrated on where to put them.

Suddenly, Mori's hand was off his shoulder and tilting his chin up. "Don't look at your feet, only the eyes," Mori intoned as he moved his hand back to Harry's shoulder, and nodded for them to continue at the next measure.

"Yes, _Takashi-sensei_," Harry replied sarcastically. He'd found the answer to be slightly humorous when he thought it up. So he never called Mori "Takashi", but "Mori-sensei" sounded too... _cutesy_ for it, and "Morinozuka-sensei" too formal for something between friends, so he'd said Takashi.

Mori's dumbfounded expression kept them from dancing for several measures. Harry had expected an eye roll perhaps, or a throaty chuckle, or even for his comment to be ignored entirely. Instead, Mori had a small dose of surprise and even confusion on his face. Like he'd been hit over the head or something. It took twenty-seven beats (by Harry's count) for Mori to snap out of it, and the smile that graced his features was the sort that Harry had seen only once before on the older boy's face, and even then he barely remembered the incident.

Back in July, after the twins had gone back to Britain, Harry had walked into the club room later than usual in that it was already club hours. And he'd seen Mori being... charming. That was the sort of smile that Harry saw on his dance partner's face after twenty-seven beats of silence (excepting the music), and it made his heart beat wildly, each thump audible. He felt his cheeks heat up, but at least he hadn't reinvented the shade of red from two weeks ago. He half wondered if Mori was feeling sleepy and was going to ask, but a loud pop behind him made Harry try to turn around.

That didn't really work since he was still firmly grasped by Mori, and he ended up tripping. For once, Mori didn't catch him, either. Instead, Mori fell with him, and Harry found the landing to be far from comfortable, and not just in the "well this is awkward" way, but in a physically painful way as well.

In that his head had smacked against the marble floor and sent stars across his vision, and with Mori landing on top of him, all his breath was expelled and he had to cough roughly to get it back. Harry felt his blush brighten as he found Mori's face was hovering maybe an inch above his own, which added to the awkwardness of the situation. And Mori's breath smelled like chocolate chip biscuits. Really, did the world have to throw so much at him in _one day_?

It seemed to take forever for Mori to get up off of him, and in that time Harry decided that, while having the larger boy on top of him wasn't unpleasant in and of itself, having said boy fall on him most certainly was. He grimaced and stood to look at Tipsy who had popped into the room and caused the incident in the first place.

"Master Harry Potter, sir's Honey is saying that he is needing Master's Takashi back," Tipsy told him in her squeaky voice. "Tipsy is being asked by Master's Honey and Master's Cherry that she is coming to tell Master Harry Potter, sir that Master's Takashi and Master's Honey is needing to go home now. Master's Honey is telling Tipsy to tell Master's Takashi that Master's Takashi's brother is calling him and that Master's Honey's brother is saying that they is having to take care of their cousins." (4)

It was amazing what an elf could say in one breath.

"Thank you Tipsy," Harry nodded with a small sigh. "Could you please ask Charlie to lead Hani-senpai to the Entrance Hall? We can meet them there." Tipsy nodded frantically and popped away again while Harry got up his courage and faced Mori, who still had a small smile on his face though (thankfully) it was wasn't the heart-stopping, charming smile again. In the space of one minute Harry had blushed more than his daily allotted amount, and he was not keen to try his hand at inventing a new shade of red again. "Let's go, Senpai."

Harry saw the pair off, journeying out to the waiting car with them and waving as the car moved down the drive, which reminded him that he needed to see about getting a car and chauffeur at some point, preferably soon. Forcing himself to think about something other than the dancing lessons – Mori had promised to come again tomorrow – Harry wandered back up to the house wondering how he was going to survive without his wand and just _how_ embarrassing it would be for him if Tonks really did confess in his stead to whoever it was that she thought he liked. Both thoughts were unbearable.

_Tomorrow_, he promised himself. It had only been a few hours since Tonks had taken it, and he knew he couldn't stand it for another day. _I'll do it tomorrow_.

Meanwhile, in the Haninozuka car that had picked the seniors up, Hani looked up at his cousin with a secret smile. "You look happy, Takashi. Did something good happen?" The mischievous glimpse went unnoticed by the older boy who stared out the car window.

"He called me Takashi..."

**Author's Note: Okay... so I finally figured out how to get Harry and Mori together without something drastic (such as waiting for the climax of the story) happening. It hit me yesterday morning for no apparent reason. Really, I woke up around three am and after a series of events that had no bearing on anything to do with this story at **_**all**_**, I suddenly was like "I know how to get Mori and Harry together! Finally!" And I spent the next... however many hours (I never got back to sleep) plotting. It made paying attention to my English lecture difficult because I had scenes of Mori/Harry cuteness running through my head... and I only got about four hours of sleep. Aren't I wonderful?**

**On Ron and Ginny: Harry does and does not blame them. He's had a year to think about it, and while he doesn't want their friendship anymore he feels he could stand to be in the same country as them one day. He can't really blame them for trusting someone they were told to trust, right? He **_**does**_**, however, blame them for the fact that they weren't going to think twice about using him and doing illegal activities just because it was "okayed" by the Headmaster.**

**School sucks. End of story. On the other hand, over 20k reads equals YAY! (Edit: A year later I look at that number and laugh...)**

**This chapter was either going to be two short chapters (well, short for this story. The average is about 6k per, and the segments would have been less than 5k) or this big one, and I picked the big one. You **_**could**_** consider this as two updates though, since it's so ridiculously long! :**D **Over 9k words? And I basically wrote it yesterday afternoon/evening and this morning!**

(1) In episode/chapter 2 (I think; too lazy to verify), Mori was dancing with Hani during Haruhi's waltzing lesson, but Hani was leading, so he's the only Host who is good enough at dancing to teach (well, they all are, except Haruhi) and dance as the submissive while Harry was taught (I imagine the twins would switch so often that neither of them could do it successfully, and Hani might, but he'd be too wild too teach Harry properly in my humble opinion). Just a little note so people don't go off on me for all the "coincidences".

(2) Hani is calling him Charu-chan because Charlie would be made up of the katakana for Chi, little ya, continued A, Ru, Ri, and probably have a continued I at the end (just making an educated guess here though), or perhaps Cha, small ya, small tsu, Ri, continued I. Not sure. So shortened he became Charu-chan! So fun to shorten a nickname, isn't it? Plus Hani is all excited about dragons, so of course he'd give the guy a nickname right off the bat.

(3) I figure that Mori needs to be afraid of something other than losing Hani, therefore he is afraid of bees. They're pure evil anyway.

(4) It is physically painful to write with grammar this bad. It makes me cringe. (Haha, Tipsy is saying that Mori (Master's Takashi) and Hani (Master's Honey) are Harry's... it makes me laugh. I just remembered Dobby calling Ron "Harry Potter's Wheezy!" and I couldn't _not _write that. But since there are four "Wheezy", I made Charlie "Cherry", Bill "Billy", and Fred and George are just "Twinses".)


	22. Chapter 22

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 22

"Chin up," Mori told Harry for what had to be the fifteenth time that day. Harry sighed and lifted his chin again, keeping in mind how he placed his feet and that he could take a potion later to ease the ache in his neck as he craned it to look the taller boy in the eyes. They had been doing this for a good three hours, and Harry's neck was really starting to hurt. Still, he ignored the pain, looked Mori in the eyes, and continued leading their dance as the waltz came to a close.

His hand fell from Mori's waist while the older boy's lifted from his shoulder and the both released the grip they had on each other's "free" hand. It was the third day of Harry's lessons with Mori, and two days before the New Year's party. Hani had come to the second lesson to talk more with Charlie, but declined attending this time because he was meant to be sparring with his older sister and some of his older cousins who had come to the house for the holiday. Harry had offered to wait for more lessons, but Hani had turned him down and said it was fine if Mori wasn't with him for the day, and since there had been no lesson the day previous, the 28th, it was extra important to have one that day. Supposedly.

At least with Hani around, there was guaranteed to be another person in the house though. When Sirius had found out that Harry was having another lesson that day, he had been a bit downtrodden since he was taking the rest of the "family" to a winter festival in a small wizarding town in northern Japan that Harry hadn't bothered to learn the name of. Still, he got over it and Harry met Mori outside the doors of his house properly before they retired to the same room as the other two lessons.

And they spent _three hours_ dancing. It was good training, Harry supposed, and he had managed to do pretty well until his neck started going stiff. He rubbed at the junction between neck and shoulder with a grimace and called for Tipsy to bring him something to get rid of that ache. Normally he kept a much healthier distance from Mori – both emotionally and physically – but dancing like that had him much closer to the older boy than normal, and the difference in their heights only became more apparent as he had to tilt his head up further than was comfortable for long periods of time. The potion-laced cocoa that Tipsy brought him did help though.

In the past few days he still hadn't managed to work out a plot to get his wand back, though, and no one was willing to help him. The twins thought it was a grand idea, Sirius agreed with Tonks, Remus had only released an exasperated sigh upon hearing the latest antics of the girl who was so enamored with him, and Bill and Charlie had simply snickered and told Harry he ought to hurry before Tonks decided that he liked George, to which Harry could only punch both of the offending Weasleys in the shoulder. If he'd had his wand they would both be purple, or have horns or something.

As Harry leaned back into the sofa, idly swiping a thin sheen of sweat that had accumulated on his forehead since the last break, Harry couldn't help but notice that Mori looked... well, _tired_. And it wasn't the sort of sleepiness that Harry had glimpsed the one time, but a regular kind of tired. After Hani's response to the situation, Harry had assumed that that was just how Mori was every time he grew fatigued, but maybe it was just an occasional sort of thing, because Mori _did_ look tired and he wasn't being charming in the process. He recalled seeing Mori with bags under his eyes over a month ago as well, and the older boy hadn't been emoting then either. Yes, it had to be that it was a one off.

"You look tired," Harry observed. He set his cocoa mug down on the tray on the table and turned toward Mori with concern. Mori had been coming to _his_ house to teach _him_ how to dance, had been so damned_nice_ about it, and had worn himself out in the effort. Harry knew the older boy trained every morning in martial arts, and then taking this on in addition... while the repetitive motions of the waltz weren't terribly taxing, they had still been doing it for hours. "Maybe you should call your car? I'm sorry if I've kept you."

"Hn," Mori grunted, shaking his head lightly and taking a sip from the cup of cocoa that had been brought for him. Harry sighed. The guy could work himself to death over people he liked! While Harry could empathize with that – hadn't he gone into the Chamber of Secrets to save Ginny even when he'd barely known her? – it made him feel horribly guilty and concerned for the older boy's state.

"Fine, but you'll at least rest for a while," he demanded finally and lifted his mug back up to keep his hands warm. "If you aren't more lively in half an hour I'm sending you home regardless, got that? You need to take care of yourself, Senpai." Mori nodded in a slightly less controlled manner than normal and actually _yawned_, which could not be a good sign. It didn't matter; Harry was going to make the senior go home in an hour even if he had to call Hani to make it happen. There was no way he would let Mori do this to himself because of these (in his opinion) unnecessary lessons. The "dead line" was just a way to make Mori's sluggish, lack-of-sleep addled mind agree to go home.

Ten minute later, Harry glanced at the older boy and saw that his eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly. Either Mori was asleep, or he was very relaxed. Harry really didn't have the heart to wake him, so he left the room and called Tipsy to bring him a blanket and pillow for the older boy. If he had to sleep on the couch, Harry would at least try to maneuver him into a comfortable position! It would be easier with his wand, but he could make do. He'd lived ten years without magic; what was a few days compared to that?

He returned to the living room to see that Mori hadn't shifted much. The only difference was that his head, instead of leaning forward on his chest, was now more off to the side. He'd get a crick in his neck like that! Harry sighed and strode forward, trying to devise a way to get the older boy lying down properly so he could have a comfortable rest without Harry waking him up. Harry pondered this from the end of the couch opposite where Mori sat. This was going to be difficult...

And then, suddenly, the answer fell in his lap, literally. Mori twitched slightly – surprising since a REM cycle normally wouldn't come so quickly – and suddenly fell over, head landing on the pillow in Harry's lap. It was a very odd coincidence, though Harry wasn't concerned with that aspect. He was thinking more on how he was going to escape. Unfortunately, he was up against the arm of the couch, so he could actually slide out from under the pillow. He would have to lift it with Mori's head and shoulders a good foot above his lap without waking the older boy to get up from the couch. That wouldn't really work, since that much movement was bound to be noticeable. And probably impossible since Harry didn't have much by way of upper body strength, and would have bad leverage.

Come to think of it, it was actually kind of odd that Mori hadn't been woken up by falling over...

Still, Harry pulled the blanket down from where it was draped over the back of the sofa and tossed it over Mori instead. It wouldn't be completely comfortable for the senior since his legs from the knees down were still hanging off, but it would have to do. And Harry would have to endure sitting for Merlin only _knew_ how long before Mori finally woke up and he could get away.

He debated whether or not Tonks would count telling Mori while he was asleep as a confession and give him back his wand, but he doubted it. She would want to see results, and if those results were an ostracized and depressed Harry and a furious Mori, then that was what it would take for her to give back Harry's wand. If he wanted his wand back, he would have to tell Mori face to face what he felt. It struck him that he was really was a coward if he couldn't tell Mori that he liked him when the older boy was _asleep_, but didn't allow himself to dwell on it.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Harry felt himself nodding off and embraced sleep. What else was there to do?

* * *

When he woke up, Harry was in pain. Literal, physical pain. The reason? When Mori woke up he ended up sitting bolt upright, and the top of his head encountered Harry's chin on the way up. Harry's chin had this sort of stabbing pain going through it and he had bitten at least halfway through the tip of his tongue, which led to him having to keep his tongue stuck out of his mouth for fear of drowning in his own blood. Who knew a tongue could bleed so much?

And since he didn't even have his wand, he didn't know if his jaw was broken or to check what, exactly he would need for his tongue to make it so that he could actually _drink_ a potion in the first place. And he was bleeding. A lot. It hurt, and he couldn't do anything but press his shirt sleeve to the wound, even though that made it hurt more, it helped stem the blood flow. It did nothing to stop the stream of pained tears coursing down his cheeks, but that wasn't the important thing in Harry's opinion. He needed to stay conscious long enough to get to a hospital.

As soon as he recognized that he was injured and unable to help himself, Harry bolted across the room to the fireplace and looked at the emergency floo list that was tacked next to the grate. Scanning it, he found the flooing address of the hospital and ripped the paper from its place on the wall. With a quick toss of a handful of floo powder into the lightly crackling fireplace, green flames started dancing merrily, beckoning him to enter and shout his destination to get himself taken care of. However, with his jaw injured in some unknown way and his tongue bleeding, Harry could do no such thing, which really wasn't great.

It was only Mori's timely arrival at his side, concern shown clearly, that told Harry how he was going to manage to get to the hospital at all. He grabbed Mori by the sleeve and dragged the very-surprised boy into the fireplace with him (said fireplace being seven feet tall, there was no fear of Mori accidentally hitting his head or the like). With his sleeve pressed to his tongue – already dripping blood that hissed in the flames – Harry passed the emergency floo list to Mori and pointed out which one was needed.

Mori, of course, had no idea what it was that Harry wanted him to do, but when Harry insisted on pointing at the name on the list, sure that he was looking completely pathetic with tears streaming, (Mori was undoubtedly still kind of occupied with the fact that Harry had dragged him into a _fire_) Mori eventually ended up reading it aloud. Harry immediately latched onto the older boy as they started to spin. Okay, so it definitely was _not_ the best introduction to magical travel ever – Harry's own first time flooing had been horrible – but it was necessary. Apparating with any body part not completely attached was more dangerous than having a house-elf apparate with a crystal ball, and Harry rather liked the idea of keeping his tongue relatively intact, thank you very much! (1)

When the spinning slowed and they finally came to a stop, Harry took a hasty step out of the fire, weaving slightly as he pulled Mori behind him. It had taken a week of special floo lessons with Sirius to figure out that he had to step out the very instant he stopped spinning, unless he wanted to fall face first on the floor like he used to. It was probably lucky of him that Mori had a good sense of balance or they might have ended up on the floor anyway, which was already a risk since he was dripping blood at a rapid rate and slicking the floor with it.

At the front desk, Harry was sent to the lifts by a rather bored witch and from there he went to the "muggle emergency" room, which was meant for people who had a typical muggle-style injury that still really ought to be taken care of very soon. The healer was more concerned with the blood than the secretary had been and immediately set to healing up his tongue before forcing a cup of blood replenishing potion down his throat.

"Everything seems to be in order," the healer nodded after he sent a diagnostic spell. "Your jaw is going to be a bit bruised, and your tongue will be sore for a day or two. You'll also experience some fatigue for the next day or so, but otherwise you're fine. I would suggest not eating anything too solid for dinner and getting to bed by eight. I'll write you a prescription for a bruise cream that you can collect from the pharmacy after you've filled out the paperwork for your visit, alright?"

"I don't need the balm," Harry waved off easily. "I'm a licensed first-aid medic, so I have all the basics at home." He turned his attention to Mori as the healer went to the counter across the room where a translucent green clipboard was situated, probably the medical paperwork. "Thanks for getting me here, Senpai. I didn't mean to just shove you into the floo network like that, but I couldn't apparate and... you didn't get hurt, did you? I'm afraid I didn't get any opportunity to make sure you didn't bruise your head or anything. Sorry about that."

Mori shook his head. "I'm fine," he had that guilty look on his face that Harry really felt shouldn't be there. It wasn't like he'd meant to fall asleep like that, or to nap in Harry's lap, or to make Harry bite his tongue like that; it was Mori's guilt complex that made him want to take the blame for everything, as Harry had already witnessed on several occasions. "Sorry."

"I've said it before and I'll say it again," Harry sent a direct look at Mori, daring the taller boy to contradict him. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault. If anything, _I'm_ the one at fault for this. I could have insisted that you go home when I saw you were tired, or when you fell asleep I could have woken you up. And it's hardly your fault that you moved in your sleep to fall over. Honestly, if I woke up with my head in someone's lap with no knowledge of how I got there, I would have reacted exactly the same, Mori-senpai."

Mori didn't seem at all reassured by Harry's statement and was, for once, the first of them to look away. Usually it was Harry who would look away first when they had their little staring contests, mostly because he usually felt that if he held the gaze any longer he would blush enough to make a Weasley proud. It was hardly reassuring that Mori had backed down so quickly, since it wasn't really his style.

With a slightly confused sigh, Harry took the clipboard and pen and removed himself to the chair beside Mori while the healer went on to deal with the next arrival to the emergency healing rooms, filling out the form with ease. He loved the healer-patient confidentiality thing, especially since it was actually followed in Japan. No one but that healer and any healer who treated Harry in future would ever know that_the_ Harry Potter had popped into the Tokyo branch of the Tanabata Hospitals. (2)

When Harry returned the clipboard to the front desk of the emergency area, it was sent off to file itself without a second glance by this secretary. "Alright, all that's left is payment," the woman pulled out a ledger and held her ink brush poised above it. "Who will this be charged to? Please keep in mind that I will know immediately if the transaction is unauthorized. You have the option of pay through muggle and magical funds, automatic transaction through Gringotts or any muggle bank provided the proper authentication and charge card may be provided." It was a practiced speech that she said without any tone, obviously just as bored as the ground floor receptionist.

Harry opened his mouth to answer and was already in the process of pulling his wallet out of his pocket, but as the Fates would have it (he was thinking of them a lot lately, he noted), Mori got to it before him. "Morinozuka Takashi," he answered easily and already had his ID and a credit card of some sort held out which the secretary took. She glanced at the ID, then at Mori before sliding the card and nodding as it dinged.

"No glamour," she nodded and then slid the charge card.

When they were back in the lift, Harry sent a glare. "You didn't have to do that," he grumbled as he eyed the still shifty-looking Mori. Honestly, there was no reason for the older boy to feel guilty in the first place – Harry had explained that _quite_ thoroughly – and even after going through some sort of perceived redemption to an imaginary slight, he still had that guilty look on his face. Harry sighed, averting his gaze instead to the false window of the lift. It didn't offer much comfort. "I'll have Tipsy bring us some fresh shirts, alright? It's almost six; we can get some dinner so long as we're downtown." He clicked his fingers – the ones that weren't bloody – and Tipsy appeared in the lift with a sharp "pop!"

"Yes? What is Master Harry Po –" she cut herself off with a terrified squeal when she saw his bloody sleeve and the same liquid, though dried, that was smeared over his neck and face. The lift doors opened on the third floor and admitted an elderly witch who look curiously at the boys wearing muggle clothes with a house-elf, but kept herself to herself. "What is happening to Master Harry Potter and Master's Takashi?!"

"It's nothing to worry about, Tipsy," Harry waved off the concern. "I would like for you to grab a fresh shirt and jacket for me..." he paused and realized that since he didn't have his wand he couldn't resize anything of his for the older boy. "And could you bring Mori-senpai's coat and my new green sweater for him? We're going out for dinner this evening since we're in Tokyo already, and bloodstains will draw too many eyes."

"Of course Master Harry Potter! Tipsy is being right back!" She popped away before Harry could even express his thanks, and the lift opened to the ground floor. The old woman left the lift and made her way in the direction of the floo while Harry beckoned Mori to come with him to the bathrooms. Tipsy popped in just as they entered and held out the clothing in question, which Harry directed her to place on the counter. "Here is the shirts you is wanting, Master Harry Potter, sir! Tipsy is waiting for the dirty ones." She about faced and Harry let a small smile grace his features before he set to the bundle on the counter, easily pulling the sweaters from on top of the coats.

"Here you go, Senpai," Harry held out his newest Weasley sweater (coincidentally, it was far too large for Harry, but it should be just about the right size for Mori by his reckoning) and set out Mori's coat on the counter. "Sorry about getting blood on your shirt in the floo. It'll take a while for Tipsy to get it out, but I'll get that back to you as soon as possible, I promise. I'm pretty sure the sweater will fit you, so..." he trailed off with a shrug and lifted his hand slightly, indicating for Mori to take the sweater. He did, though cautiously.

Harry shrugged again set to pulling the blood sodden shirt from his arm, wrinkling his nose at the sensation of the blood un-sticking. It was _vile_, but it had to be done. Luckily, the bathroom has Magi-Swabs (TM) so it took less than a minute to clean himself up before he slipped on the dark gray turtleneck that Tipsy had brought for him and handed the bloody shirt to his elf with a polite thank you. Mori copied the latter action, allowing Harry a moment to note that the sweater did fit him, before said elf popped away and they were both pulling on jackets and walking out of the building in silence, though to Harry it seemed strained... and for once not on his own end.

When they stopped walking, they had arrived at a ramen shop that Harry was by this time quite familiar with. Mori had seemed surprised that they found themselves right in the middle of Tokyo – the hospital was a building that was often passed and yet it gave no sign that it was magical in nature – and looked even more so when they had stopped their six block trek at the small ramen shop.

"Is ramen okay with you? It was the first thing I thought of when the healer said 'not too solid', but if you want something else I'll be happy to oblige." Harry knew quite well that if he made it seem that he wanted ramen – which, admittedly, he did – then Mori would make no indication that he would prefer otherwise. The fact that he had stopped in front of the place at all was already a small risk to that, but Mori seemed perfectly at ease with the idea as he nodded his assent. Maybe Harry just wasn't good enough at reading the older boy yet.

Still, without any objection Harry had no reason to prod Mori and instead led the way in, pleased to find that it wasn't too packed for the dinner rush just yet. Though Mori still seemed ill at ease in the same way he had since waking up (was it really only twenty minutes ago?), he didn't seem at all uncomfortable being in the ramen shop. Harry recalled suddenly that, while this was the place that he and Sirius frequented, he had also come once with Mori's little brother Satoshi who, if he strained his memory, Harry could remember mentioning that Mori came along sometimes. On the bright side Harry knew that Mori actually _did_ like ramen.

"Hello, welcome to –" the waitress stopped mid-greeting. "Oh! Morinozuka-kun, Potter-kun, welcome as always." Apparently Mori frequented the place, same as Harry, if the newest of the staff knew him by name. "I didn't even realize that you two knew each other, but then I don't pry much, now do I?" She sent a wink at them; she did, in fact, pry and was quite the gossip, as even only second-time visitors to the restaurant could tell. "Will you both be wanting your usual?"

Mori nodded and Harry sent a polite smile to the girl. "That'd be great, thank you Matsuoka-san," he responded. His usual sounded just heavenly right then, even if his jaw was aching and still in the process of visibly bruising.

"Two bowls miso, extra broth it is," the waitress – Matsuoka Hikari – skipped off to the small bar in back to drop of the order while Harry stared after her for a moment dumbfounded, before shrugging it off. Loads of people liked miso ramen, and the fact that Mori favored it, same as him, couldn't really be much of a surprise; Harry knew the older boy preferred traditional Japanese dishes to begin with. (3)

They waited in patient silence as the tables around them slowly filled and the decibel level steadily rose. Harry was perfectly content to stay quiet as they awaited their meal; Mori's general quiet was something solid that he could count on even if the older boy had been talking more and more over the past weeks, and it was comforting. Maybe Mori was just being odd that day, because it seemed as though he wanted to say something. Harry ignored the behavior, however, knowing that drawing attention to it wouldn't help in the least.

Soon enough, Hikari returned with the food. "Potter-kun, what happened to your jaw? You look like you got on the wrong side of someone's fist," she observed as the bowls were placed on the table. "Have you been to a doctor about that yet?"

"It was just an accident," Harry answered succinctly. "The doctor prescribed one of those miracle cures, so it'll be gone by tomorrow. Thank you for your concern, Matsuoka-san." She released a sarcastically indignant huff before turning about and waving to the boys, moving on to another table. Harry noted Mori's incredulous look and shrugged in response. "I'm not a big name in muggle Japan. The only time I've shown up in the paper here, my face I mean, is in paparazzi shots of Sirius, and I'm always written off as being his secretary or just part of his posse. It's one thing to tell people who I am at Ouran. They don't care. As far as everyone else knows, I'm just a teenager, and that's all they need to know."

It was the blasé attitude of the Ouran students regarding his lineage and name – he was rich, he had a good family name, and nothing else mattered to them – that had made him decide he would stay there in the first place (that and the distance between Japan and England as well as the general idea that he would probably _not_ hide out in Japan). In the world of the rich and famous, what was one more? And since no one made a fuss over him, none of the reporters had caught on yet, muggle or magical (only two pictures of him had ever made it to wizarding papers and identified him, and he was significantly less childish looking than then), so normal people didn't treat him like anything special either. It was nice.

Mori seemed to understand his like of not having a fuss made over him and tucked into the ramen without further ado. Harry allowed a small smile to flit over his features before he started eating as well, being extra careful of his tongue.

What he didn't expect was for someone to suddenly shout "Harry-kun!" over the din, which caused him to choke lightly as his head whipped around to the door. The next shout to come was "Mori-senpai!" and Harry zeroed in on the speaker. Haruhi was halfway across the room with – of all people – Kasanoda just behind her as they made their way over.

"Haruhi-kun, Kasanoda-san," Harry greeted. Kasanoda looked distinctly uncomfortable and kept darting his glance from Haruhi to Harry. It took the wizard a moment to figure out why: Haruhi was wearing a dress, and Kasanoda probably didn't know that Harry knew her secret. It was almost laughable, but Harry just smiled as they seated themselves at the table without invitation. Well, they might have taken Mori's nod of acknowledgement as an invitation. "It's nice to see you both. How are your vacations going?"

Over the next few minutes, Haruhi and Kasanoda expounded upon their vacations thus far. Haruhi admitted to some small boredom from not seeing the Hosts in over a week, but expressed her relief as well since she didn't feel like dealing with her own clingy father _plus_ Sirius who liked to dote on her in much the same way as her own father _plus_ Tamaki. Apparently she had visited Kasanoda a few days before Christmas and noted that all the "brothers" of the Kasanoda-gumi were all quite nice. Kasanoda muttered something about getting a puppy from his father – a boar hound. He also mentioned that Hedwig had visited him a few times.

"I had wondered where she was getting off to," Harry nodded with a small smile. "I did say she likes you. Actually –" he cast his gaze to both the other first years, "I'm rather surprised to see you both here. I figure since it's almost New Year's... well, most people spend this time with their families." This was another thing that had been eating at him. Mori was giving up family time to teach him to dance and then had exhausted himself.

Kasanoda shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was Haruhi who spoke. "Dad is out with Sirius, but I didn't feel like going with all of your family. They remind me a bit too much of a bunch of sugar high children," she admitted. "When Ritsu-kun called me asking to hang out... well, we came into town and saw a movie. Ramen sounded like a fun dinner." She chuckled and took a bite of the ramen that had appeared before her only moments before. Harry lifted an eyebrow. She had called Kasanoda – always Casanova before then – by his given name.

"So you're on an impromptu date," the statement was playful, and while Kasanoda seemed to choke on his own food, Haruhi shrugged. She was so oblivious that it was almost endearing.

"No more than you and Mori-senpai are on a date," she answered evenly. Had Harry been eating at that moment – he was down to just the broth already and was sipping it on occasion – he would have choked. Instead he let out a cough. His statement was playful, hers was just mean (in his opinion). Mori actually _did_ choke; Kasanoda looked kind of put-out.

Conversation went on to safer topics from there. Harry brushed away all questions regarding the bruise on his chin, saying it was his own fault and he would cure it when he got home. Mori shifted uneasily then, but it seemed that Haruhi and Kasanoda didn't notice. They spoke of school, the upcoming party at the Hitachiin Estate, and anything else they came up with, though these topics died quickly.

About five minutes after Harry finally finished drinking his broth, he decided to ask Kasanoda a question that he'd been wanting to ask for... well, _months_, actually. "Why did you want to be Mori-senpai's disciple, anyway? I've been wondering for a while, but honestly I just don't see it."

Suddenly, Mori had stood from his seat and left with only a muttered "bathroom" to which Harry could only blink in return and shake his head. Really, some people were so strange. Maybe Mori didn't like Kasanoda's idolization of him?

"Morinozuka-nii-sama is quite like me... and yet people like him," Kasanoda murmured, as though not sure how to say it. "Except he was quite different. Until September, I was widely feared by the rest of the school because I have a scary face, and yet they liked Morinozuka-nii-sama. With his lifeless eyes, his lack of expression, and his antisocial character, not to mention that his face is comparable to the guard dogs of Hell –"

Harry cut him off right there. "You have a warped sense of reality," Harry rolled his eyes, wondering just where he'd gotten those ideas. "First off, Mori-senpai's face isn't like... like a _guard dog of Hell_. If it were, not only would he not be a Host to begin with, but he wouldn't get designations or have a not-so-secret fanclub. He's as handsome as any of the other male Hosts. Where on earth you got the idea..." he sighed and shook his head. "Second, just because he's shy, it doesn't make him anti-social. I was pretty much anti-social when I started at Ouran because I tried to escape human contact, while Mori-senpai has gone out of his way to make at least acquaintances. Typical social behavior, no matter how he might seem to not be interacting. While I will grant that he doesn't show his emotions with his face very often, how you can mistake his eyes for being _lifeless_..."

Harry shook his head. The only ways to reliably tell Mori's emotions were through body language and his eyes, and the body language could only tell so much to someone who didn't actually know how to read it. Really, Harry found reading Mori's body language most effective when it dealt with touch, since Mori seemed to be the type of person who was more touch oriented than anything else. Those eyes, however, were expressive. Harry usually couldn't see much in a person's eyes, but Mori's were – for lack of a better word – vocal.

When Mori returned to the table he wasn't looking terribly happy. He had undoubtedly known what Kasanoda would say – Haruhi hadn't been surprised by it, so it was likely that Kasanoda had mentioned it to the Hosts at some point – and didn't like the evaluation of his character. It was probably the anti-social remark that would effect him since Mori really did go out of his way to try being social. Hani had called him shy, and more than a month later Harry had to agree.

Everyone realized how late they had stayed only when Harry let out a yawn, the fatigue mentioned by the healer finally catching up with him. The restaurant was half-empty by then, and Harry ended up paying for everyone (he insisted and glared down anyone – all of them – who protested) before cars arrived to pick up Mori and Kasanoda, Haruhi having graciously accepted a ride from the latter to get home. Harry staggered to the nearest apparition point and made his way home, making sure to concentrate extra hard when he did.

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning with a foggy head, the morning twilight just lightening the sky and a rather harried looking Rory standing on his stomach. He wondered idly if it was some sort of fad for people to wake the Vanquisher-of-Voldemort by getting on top of him or if it was just Tonks and house-elves, but he shoved the thought away. The elves had been ordered to not enter his room without his express permission unless it was important or if it was to save him from an overly affectionate Sirius. It seemed the latter was not the case.

"Master Harry Potter is being in the newspaper," Rory informed him and held out the rolled up print without any further ado. He was a strange elf, serious and business-like. Given he was younger than Harry and still only about half the size of his mother – Tipsy – this was more outside the norm than usual given that young elves were known for being extra bouncy. Harry had attributed this to him only meeting his "master" a year ago, and having never had to take orders from a human until that point. He'd grown up in a strange way for an elf, and that was a great deal of the reason why Harry suspected he would be well off independent; Rory didn't have the same conditioning as most elves.

Regardless, Harry plucked the paper from the elf's grasp with a distracted thank you and set to reading it. The elf popped away and didn't see Harry's expression upon reading the front page headline.

_Boy-Who-Lived in Japan!_

_Yesterday at approximately 5:45 pm, Yamaguchi Sakura was at the Tanabata Hospital, Tokyo Branch, to get a potion for one of her many daily aches and pains. She entered the lift back to the ground floor after her appointment and, seeing it was occupied only by two teenaged boys and a house-elf, had thought that nothing special would happen._

_"They were both fine looking young men," she informed this reporter in an exclusive interview. "One was quite tall, a strapping young man who was likely well versed in those muggle martial arts, and the other was a bit shorter than average and he was absolutely covered in blood. Of course, I thought he had just been telling his elf to make sure he had a bath running when he got home. I hadn't thought for a second that this boy, barely any taller than I am and with the face of an angel, was _the_ Potter Harry!"_

_In the past months there have been sightings of the Vanquisher in various parts of Japan, many of which were in Tokyo and Osaka in particular. All of these were ignored as role-players. However, in pensieve evidence Yamaguchi-san has shown that a house elf called the short, angel-faced boy "Master Harry Potter, sir."_

_Has Potter Harry been in our midst all this time? Reports from the United Kingdom claim that Potter vanished from wizarding society two months after his already legendary second defeat of the British Dark Lord and he was last traced to a Black family residence in Ireland. With Sirius Black openly living in Japan for the past ten months, it was speculated that Potter had come along. By examining photographs taken of Lord Black in various social scenery, it has been determined that the young man often shown as walking just behind Black – a position normally held by a secretary – is in fact Potter._

_He has been right under our noses for ten months, shown in wizarding and muggle papers precisely 76 times since the now-verified arrival._

_So the question is, does the Boy-Who-Lived want our attentions, sending the entire wizarding world all over the globe on a hunt for him, or a quiet existence without the stigma of his fame? This reporter intends to find out._

Harry shook his head and continued leafing through his newspaper. Ten stories. He was featured in _ten_ stories in today's paper! Even worse, an article in the gossip section referred to the "exclusive interview" with the witch who had seen Harry to begin with, and mentioned that "the taller boy was referred to by the house-elf as 'Master's Takashi.' Is he a friend to the boy who is considered the wizarding world's second-most eligible bachelor (after Lord Sirius Black), or something more?"

Harry wanted to bang his head on something, but all he had available were pillows. Worse, he couldn't transfigure them into anything better because Tonks still had his wand.

_'Oh Merlin... What is Tonks going to say when she reads this?'_ He grimaced at the thought and decided that perhaps he could forgo his ritual lazing this morning. Thinking didn't seem to be helping any.

**Author's Note: We all knew it had to happen sometime... but who's to say that the important people didn't already know? Oh, and I find JKR's thing about needing a wand to apparate to be utter bullshit. I mean, how do you even use your wand to do it? You aren't incanting... so that's not how it works in my universe; like being an animagus, it's a wandless ability. So there.**

**Kudos to those who can figure out why Mori wasn't being all weird and charming when he was sleepy this time! Extra kudos if you know why he was so discomfited. It ought to be revealed at a later time (not that it's all that important or anything, just **_**curious**_**) if you care. 'Kay, so I just looked in the Ouran archives and selected 100k length... and I found that this is one of four Ouran fics to beat 100k. I find that to be freaking **_**amazing**_**. Especially because I didn't mean to take it this far... but it's also kind of sad because either Ouran writers only write shorter stories or there are a lot dropped. Or both.**

**I actually meant to have the New Year's party (or part of it) in this chapter, but other things came up. Actually, I was planning on not finishing this chapter until tonight/tomorrow (I had weight training today and we did a bench press contest... but my group added too much weight so my shoulders hurt), but when I got home I found I had FOUR reviews more than I did yesterday. I figured you guys deserved another chapter for that. Sixteen reviews for the last chapter equal YAY.**

(1) I'm sure Mori prefers that Harry's tongue be intact too ;)

(2) Couldn't think of anything else, so I decided to name the Tokyo magical hospitals after Tanabata. I actually hate that story and it has nothing to do with healing, but whatever.

(3) Before you try to make it sound like Harry is a stalker or something, keep in mind that he and Sirius had everyone over for dinner in... I dunno the chapter, actually. 14 or 15 I think. October. There. So Harry knows (at least vaguely) the sorts of foods that the Hosts, Mei, and Ranka like. Memory works like that, randomly.


	23. Chapter 23

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, eventual mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 23

The evening of New Year's Eve dawned (1) the next day and Harry found himself teaching not one, not two, but _four_ grown men how to properly wear a suit. The Weasley men all looked suitably abashed, but they each waved it off. It had been confirmed that Sirius would be attending the adult party with Ranka as his date (he was cited as saying that _he_ would wear a dress if Ranka wanted, but said cross-dresser had declined on the grounds that Sirius looked bad in drag. Harry _really_ didn't want to know how Ranka knew this), Remus with Tonks (Remus protested, but it was half-hearted at best), and the elder two Weasleys stag at that same function. The twins and Harry were going to the Host event, also all stag, but it was bound to be a blast with Fred and George present.

It was _Fred and George_ after all, the pranksters whose ingenuity beat out even the infamous Marauders. Harry had to make Bill cast "_accio_" seven times before prank sweets stopped coming out of their pockets.

Harry mused after the fiasco with the suits – none of the Weasley males were used to muggle attire beyond a sweater or t-shirt and jeans, so getting them to put on anything at all restraining was an ordeal since they were used to loose fitting clothes and robes – about the... _situation_ with him being outed to the public. He'd been so careful to be concealed without actually hiding! Even at the Hospital, his hair had been stuck to his forehead from the original spray of blood. And all the hard work that was put into that was spoiled by Tipsy.

Not that he blamed her! He'd been kind of shocked, but he didn't hold Tipsy's typical overuse of his name against her. Really, it was in her nature and couldn't be helped. It was his own idiocy for calling her when anyone could – and did – walk in. Still, now there was no way that people wouldn't flock into the country to try and catch a peek at him – though it would probably make the Board of Tourism or whatever it was called happy – most especially Dumbledore and the British Ministry. When he had brought this up during lunch the day the article came out, he found out something that he really should have been told beforehand (in his humble opinion).

Dumbledore had been missing since Halloween, and no one had ever mentioned it. Not when Tonks and Remus came to visit, not in any correspondence even from the Company (he'd have to have a talk with someone over there about supplying him important information), and certainly not in the past week-and-a-half since the six visiting Brits (Remus may live in France, but he was still a Brit) arrived. The old man had mentioned a "lead" to finding Harry and caught an International portkey to Bulgaria... except that wasn't where the portkey landed. For all anyone knew, the Headmaster had been stalking him since then, or he could have gone into hiding in Atlantis.

Things had already blown up. Sirius had decided that, even though Harry had been outed, they still had to go shopping for the appropriate attire for the New Year's party (on Sirius, of course). Almost as soon as they hit the apparition point in Nagasaki where the tailor Sirius preferred had his shop, it became obvious that the article had gotten off shore very quickly. Harry was nearly assaulted by a pair of French witches, and he could have sworn he saw Oliver Wood in the crowd. Bill actually had to set up a mobile ward around Harry just to keep them off of him, and by the time he'd succeeded, Tonks had taken down the names of half the pressing crowd in case Harry decided to press charges and Sirius was in a snit.

Harry never realized how famous he was until that moment. Sure, he'd known since he was eleven that he was a hero, since he was twelve that he was a household name, an international icon since he was fourteen, and since he was fifteen that he had realized that there were some "rabid fans" out there. Now, with them pressed around him, he could tell that he'd been sheltered all his life, more than he could ever imagine. The quiet days of attending school in Tokyo where no one really knew who he was and those who didn't care were gone.

Hopefully the wizards were reasonable enough to keep away from him in muggle areas. Hopefully, Fudge wouldn't try to pull anything. Neither were likely to be fulfilled though, so Harry just kept them as idle dreams.

The fact that, when Tonks had flipped through the gossip pages, she had made a comment didn't help. "And here I was thinking it'd be that blond boy you liked!" She snickered when Harry snatched the offending article from her grip.

"You mean Hani-senpai?" He asked incredulously. Tonks released a derisive snort. "You mean Tamaki-senpai, then. What gave you the idea that I would like _him_ of all people?"

"Well, they say that every girl marries her father, so I figure it's the same in your case, and I remember James Potter as being quite emotional, like Sirius, just a bit more... tame," Tonks shrugged. "Plus you got all upset when he didn't take to magic, so..."

This, of course, sparked the twins to steal the paper from Harry while he explained what had happened with Tamaki and hoped desperately that the subject of who he happened to like wouldn't come up again. Bill and Charlie knew how harrowing it was to find a muggle not taking the revelation of magic well, both having had muggle girlfriends in the past who didn't take it well (Bill was dating one such muggle now, though she was fine with magic from what he revealed (2)) and found the story more funny than anything.

Harry counted himself quite lucky that nothing untoward happened after that, though Remus did collect a fair few galleons from everyone else. They had been betting on Harry's inclinations, it seemed, and Remus was the one to vote on Mori. Sirius had picked Hani because Remus said Mori before he did and Hani was the other person who Harry spent a lot of time with, Tonks bet on Tamaki, Fred and George on – of course – a Hitachiin twin apiece, mostly for giggles, and Bill and Charlie each bet on some of the lads they knew Harry went to Hogwarts with since they hadn't actually met any of Harry's friends at Ouran.

As it was, everyone was leaving late on the first of January. The party was likely the last chance Harry would have before Tonks took matters into her own hands.

When the hired limousines (Sirius decided to have three for their group to make a proper entourage) arrived at the Hitachiin estate, they were greeted and sent down to the appropriate ballrooms, all fashionably late. The twin maids who directed them had sent speculative glances at Fred and George who sent identical saucy winks at the girls, causing them to smile darkly.

"Harry-kun! Weasley-san and Weasley-san, welcome to the Hitachiin Mansion!" Kaoru greeted when they entered the ballroom. Fred and George let out appreciative whistles. They had grown up in the Burrow and were impressed by just Harry and Sirius' homes which were a little humble when compared to the Hitachiin Estate. Harry's because he didn't need anything _that_ fancy, so most of the decor wasn't unlike what would be found in a normal person's home, and Sirius' because he was a bit more... _eccentric_ than most people. His home ended up looking like a Technicolor rabbit had barfed on everything.

"Kaoru-kun, it's good to see you." When he thought of it, Harry realized that he hadn't gone so long without seeing the Hosts since he'd met them. In the past week and a half he had seen only Haruhi, Hani, and Mori. It was kind of odd, like when he had been at Hogwarts for the full year and gone back to the Dursleys the first time, thinking that everyone had forgotten him. "Thank you very much for inviting us; I've heard that Host events are always really interesting."

"Quite the place you got here," Fred noted, leaning casually on his twin. The girls nearby, those not occupied by dancing at least, stared curiously at the red-haired twins. While the girls of 1-A had seen them once before, Harry supposed it was still a novelty to see two sets of twins who were so alike to each other – both sets being natural redheads, mischievous, and very clingy – and most of the school wouldn't have known about the Weasleys at all.

"Much classier than Sirius' place," George added, "although –"

"With that guy's sense for 'interior decorating' –"

"It isn't hard to be! Did you know –"

"That his living room is bright orange?"

Kaoru laughed. "That is pretty weird," he agreed. "Everyone's kind of spread out right now, but you can find food on the far wall, dancing in the north half, mingling in the south half, and the balcony is at on the east wall. We'll be showing the fireworks in about an hour. Now off with you! I have more guests to greet since Hikaru ditched me."

He scrunched up his nose in mock annoyance, though Harry had a feeling that it more-than-likely had to do with Haruhi and Hikaru heading out for a moment to discuss his confession to her. Harry pondered this as he set out with Fred and George to find some people to "mingle" with. If Hikaru had the courage to confess to Haruhi – the most oblivious girl on the face of the earth – surely Harry could do the same to Mori, who was quite observant? If Harry let out any signs, which he would admit that he definitely had, if only on accident, then Mori would have probably picked up on them, so he couldn't be completely ignorant to Harry's plight, right?

_And I could get the awkward moments to stop_, he reminded himself. There were just some "moments" that they had together which Harry could not in good conscience say were good. Such as the kissing-cure thing that Hani made him do. Or just a few days before when Tipsy had startled Harry and made Mori fall on him. Or any other number in awkward situations that made Harry feel that he was about to _die_ of embarrassment and could only be exacerbated should Mori actually _know_...

But, then, by his own logic had already surmised that Mori at least suspected, hadn't he? It was so confusing.

With a sigh, Harry ducked under a casual arm that Fred had been trying to toss over his shoulder, only to be caught by George's and then the one he had been trying to duck in the first place. It was rather useless to even try to avoid things like that with them, since they always succeeded. Instead, he properly introduced the pair – saying their family were close friends of Harry and his guardian (_the_ Lord Black) and that they were successful inventors caught the attention of the surrounding girls and a few of the boys present – which allowed Harry to extricate himself.

The other students of 1-A (and most of the rest of Ouran who paid him any mind) weren't fond of him, due to his generally aloof nature at school. Not that they disliked him, but Harry wasn't the most social of people, and as far as anyone knew he really only associated with the Hosts, and, again as far as they knew, even that was rather sparingly. It felt... _awkward_ to be social to people who he had passively ignored for the past nine months.

"I'm just getting punch," Harry reassured George when he sent a look at Harry in his retreat. "I'll come back, promise." He did not, however, promise to come _right_ back, and while it did make him feel guilty to omit that bit, at least he wasn't lying. He wouldn't just hang about the Hosts and Weasleys like the socially awkward child that he was, and that promise made him squirm slightly.

At Hogwarts, he'd known essentially everyone. It was a school of less than 400 students with twenty adults on staff to keep them all in order, and everyone had come to know everyone else, at least by name. Harry had known the name of each Gryffindor, had had a conversation amounting to, at the very least, "do you remember how you got your scar?" "No," or "Can I have your autograph?" "No," with all of them. Ouran had a larger population, far more adults, and Harry didn't know any of them, hadn't allowed himself to know them. He supposed it was time to pay the price. He knew the names of everyone in his own class, at least, but other than that...

Well, the prospect of walking up to someone he didn't know, or having it go the other way around, and striking up a conversation was daunting. The fact that Kaoru (and likely Mori) would be expecting him to dance with someone was also not making him feel better. Firstly, he would have to go up and actually _ask_ a girl to dance. The only girl he knew – unless Mei was attending, though he'd barely made any acquaintance with her at all – would be Haruhi, and asking her to dance wasn't exactly conducive with the "Haruhi is a boy" theory that was pressed on the students.

With a small shrug to himself, Harry grabbed a glass of punch (really, it was some strange, high-class, fresh, sparkling fruit juice, but it was far easier to call it "punch") and sipped at it, trying to think of what he could do to keep himself occupied until the fireworks. He was lucky that he'd already swallowed the juice when he heard the words "joy pee" shouted over the room in what was unmistakably Tamaki's voice, else he would have choked or spewed the punch. As it was, he fell into a fit of coughs.

These people were mad, he decided easily, and shook his head. He caught sight of Tamaki being... Tamaki-ish in his pleading to Haruhi and Harry shook his head. Honestly, they couldn't be anything short of loony.

Things died down, back to a simple party mood with girls swarming the Hosts and many other guys left high and dry as whatever girl they had hoped to woo went to fawn over said club. To say that Harry was surprised when a group of boys – the American Football Club president present among them – waved him over was an understatement.

"Potter, right?" One of the boys (Harry thought he'd seen him in the second year classrooms once) asked when Harry came over. "You're from England, aren't you?"

"Born and raised," Harry affirmed, wondering where they were going to go with this. It was an innocent line of questioning, but Harry couldn't remember the last time that such things ended well. Were they going to use him to prove a point? Maybe that all Brits were anti-social or something of the sort, though that wasn't the least bit true... then he wondered why he was thinking deeply about this at all. Perhaps the past weeks since his encounter with a Death Eater In-Training (as Sirius had taken to calling the children of Death Eaters) had made him paranoid. And paranoid about muggles no less!

"There seem to be a lot of people from the United Kingdom in Tokyo the past couple days," the boy continued on as if Harry's reply made no difference. "Lord Black has been spotted all around the city with a small entourage since the start of Winter Vacation, and the news is saying that they're all British, and suddenly yesterday it seems like half the country is full of them - there are a lot of foreigners in the area, but most are British as far as anyone can figure. No one I've talked to knows why, and my dad owns one of the major airlines. He said that there aren't any records of that many people flying over. We were wondering if you had any ideas?"

What could he say? "They found out that I'm here," or perhaps, "wizards are weird"? No, that wouldn't do at all!

So Harry shrugged in as nonchalant manner as he could manage. "Well, Christmas is the big family holiday in Britain, and people like to go on vacation after that," it was the truth, sort of. "Maybe it's a fad? Or they could be hoping to see Lord Black since he's here. Sirius Black is well known, you know? So it could just be that people are following the tabloids like they usually do." It felt quite foreign to refer to Sirius as Lord Black, but in public he did have to show proper respect even if Sirius _was_ a bit of a dip.

He purposefully did not think of a month ago when Sirius intruded on his class and he publicly disrespected the man.

"Yeah, but it's still weird," another boy put in. It was... odd. Harry managed to fall into an easy conversation with these boys who he'd never said a word to about things that he hadn't talked about in ages. He hadn't talked sports at all since Ron, and though it wasn't Quidditch he could still follow everything. These guys actually went out of their way to include him in the conversation.

Perhaps "nice" would be a better way to put it.

After a while, Harry decided that he had probably overstayed his welcome when he stopped being able to keep up with the topic (something about the effects of certain fruits on sports capability?) and wandered off to do... something else, he supposed. It was still half an hour until the fireworks were set to start up, two hours to midnight – Sirius had made their lateness as "fashionable" as he could after all – and four hours before everyone would be "asked" to leave. So he had four and a half hours to... do something. No way would Sirius want to leave _early_ from the adult function.

When Kyouya appeared suddenly at his elbow, Harry didn't so much as jump and instead refilled the glass of punch that he had long since finished. The second year was surprisingly sneaky, and Harry had schooled himself not to react after he dropped things several times too often.

He was, however, mildly surprised to see Haruhi sidle up next to them when Kyouya led Harry off to a corner. Really, it just... wasn't expected for him to have a talk with them both.

"Tamaki and Hikaru want to dance with Haruhi tonight," Kyouya informed Harry flatly, as if it was supposed to _mean_ something. Harry shrugged. Weren't they trying to let Haruhi decide things without others pressing the fact of Tamaki and Hikaru's affections in her face or something like that? However, the girl-dressed-as-a-boy in question didn't seem effected by the news. Either she was aware of Tamaki's liking of her or she was so used to the eccentricities of her fellow Hosts that things like this didn't phase her anymore. Harry had an inkling that it was the latter. Still...

"What does that have to do with me?" Harry inquired. Really, wasn't that the important thing? Kyouya always had a motive, Harry's paranoia aside, and whatever it was _obviously_ required the cooperation of both Harry and Haruhi. Was he on Tamaki's side of the Haruhi struggle and hoping to get the girl to dance with his friend or was it something completely unrelated?

"It would make for a strategic photo opportunity," Harry caught Haruhi rolling her eyes at Kyouya's comment. Apparently she'd heard this before. "Recently the numbers for purchases of our photo collections have risen, and statistics state that a few... 'boy-love' moments with Hosts other than the twins would continue the trend. Pictures taken of Haruhi dancing with her admirers would be popular."

"But if I'm the only 'boy' that the Hosts dance with then it'll be kind of suspicious," Haruhi rolled her eyes again and Harry had to nod.

It was one thing to have the Host boys all over her, since that could be taken as a bit of schoolboy fun, but dancing was another matter entirely. However, most of the other Hosts also couldn't dance together since they were all used to leading (well, in Kyouya's case it was probably to preserve his dignity), so with the exception of perhaps Hani leading Mori, or the twins dancing together, the only person who could dance with the male Hosts was Haruhi, and that really was kind of suspect.

"We thought that if you danced with Hani-senpai, myself, and perhaps Mori-senpai that it would be helpful," Haruhi continued. "I've already spoken to Ritsu-kun, and he's agreed to dancing with me." Harry wondered if she had any idea how much she was playing with that boys emotions, though he kept it to himself. "Fred-kun and George-kun agreed to dance with Hikaru and Kaoru, too."

"Well thought out, as always," Harry nodded to himself, inwardly dreading what would happen if he agreed. It would take the edge off the awkwardness of asking a girl to dance – technically he was currently being asked by Kyouya and Haruhi to dance with two other guys and one presumed guy after all – but he would be dancing with Mori again after the little fiasco from the other day that had ended with Harry in the emergency room. Hopefully he could impress Mori's innocence upon the older boy, but Mori seemed to have some sort of guilt complex. With a mental sigh, Harry knew what he only option on the matter was. "I'll help you out then. Just give me a minute or so of forewarning though, okay?"

"Of course," Kyouya nodded, a sly smirk on his face, and he walked off to where a cluster of his fangirls was staring at the confrontation curiously.

Harry didn't realize until a minute or so later than his minute or so of forewarning had been that little meeting. Suddenly, he found himself face to face with Mori, who had his hand offered to lead him to the dance floor, and Harry could already see Haruhi leading her not-so-platonically-inclined "father," better known as King of the Host Club, to the north half of the room. With the offer right there, even though Mori was only doing so because Kyouya had requested it, Harry couldn't refuse. Technically speaking, he had already agreed.

With an ease that Harry had once associated with calming potions – not that he took them, mind, in fact he hadn't had so much as a sip of one since October, and he'd only probably had two phials full in total in the past year which was pretty darn good all things considered – he slipped his hand into Mori's as he had dozens of times in their three dancing lessons and followed the older boy to the dance floor. The sight elicited giggles from many of the girls they passed and a lot of odd looks in general before they finally arrived to the north half of the room. Haruhi was already being led in a waltz by an ecstatic Tamaki, and the Weasley twins were dancing with one another.

"Are you leading, or shall I?" Harry asked. When Mori's hand landed on his shoulder Harry chuckled and got into position to lead his friend. It still hurt his neck slightly to crane it as much as he had to – Mori really was quite tall – but he took the lessons to heart and felt he was doing fairly well. He wasn't stepping on Mori's toes (he'd gotten past that stage quickly) and he wasn't giving in to the instinct to look down. His gaze remained solely on Mori.

Suddenly, he couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Mori's features relaxed slightly as he lifted an eyebrow at Harry's outburst. "What?" Maybe Harry really was lucky. Anyone else would have just received the raised eyebrow, if anything at all.

"It's nothing, Mori-senpai," Harry shook his head, still not removing his gaze from the older boy's. It wasn't really nothing, since he was agonizing over trying to tell Mori about his feelings. He made something up. "It's just that I'm wondering who will be leading when Haruhi-kun and Kasanoda-kun dance together, that's all. Kasanoda-kun is very protective of Haruhi-kun's secret after all, but I doubt he knows how to follow." Harry chuckled again at the mental image this produced and was rewarded with a small, but still genuine, laugh from his dance partner. "See? Nothing important, Mori-senpai."

They continued with their dance for a few more beats before the sort-of silence was broken again. Harry was surprised to find that it was Mori who broke it.

"I liked it when you called me Takashi," he stated. If Harry's head weren't already craned up to look at the taller boy, Harry would have whipped it up in surprise. As it was, his eyebrows shot behind his fringe. While it was true that, during their lessons Harry had called him Takashi-sensei – Mori hadn't seemed to mind and had actually seemed to like it for some odd reason; maybe he wanted to be a teacher? – Harry hadn't expected him to actually request to be called by his given name like the rest of the Hosts (for the most part) had.

"Alright Takashi-senpai," the words sounded foreign on his tongue, but Harry decided that he would keep to it. Mori raise his eyebrow again, this time as more of a "are you kidding me?" than a "what?" gesture. "Takashi-kun?" The eyebrow remained in place. "Fine. Takashi. Happy now?"

Mori nodded, a small smile on his face, and Harry burst out laughing. Technically it was bad dance etiquette, but he couldn't help it. He'd been given permission to call Mori – Takashi? – by his given name and gotten a smile out of him to boot. It was completely ridiculous. Other dancers sent him odd looks since Mori – he would have to get used to thinking of him as Takashi if that really was what the older boy wanted – wasn't exactly the type to crack a joke.

Not that Harry cared what sort of looks he received from his peers. He was too busy laughing and trying to keep his stomach from doing those flip-floppy things that it had taken to doing lately. He wished it would stop, even if it was oddly pleasant in its own way.

That dance ended, and suddenly Harry found himself being led by Hani. As it was his second time ever to be led (Parvati Patil having led his first ever waltz) Harry felt he did alright, no matter how wildly Hani danced. He was given a breather for the next set before he danced with Haruhi... and was led by her. She had already led Kasanoda around the floor, which was surprisingly coordinated, and Hikaru had dibs on her next dance.

After the fifth dance – in which Harry danced with Kanazuki Reiko so that Hani could have a cake break and he could say that he danced with a girl who didn't lead him at least once – everyone was called to the balcony/porch/veranda/whatever-it-was that hung over the rose gardens (how they were still in bloom Harry couldn't even begin to guess, though he suspected that the Hitachiin family had connections to the magical world beyond a squib grandmother) for the fireworks display. It was impressive, for muggles, but a few had Harry suspecting they had called in the Weasley twins somehow. Muggle fireworks did _not_ form roses and hearts in the sky, that much he knew.

And suddenly, he was alone. Everyone had gone back inside to enjoy the party, and Harry was alone. He didn't mind terribly much. There were less than four hours left in which Harry could somehow corner Mori, get him alone, and confess how he felt. That time seemed far too small. He'd gone over scenario after scenario in his mind of what would happen, too.

In the better ones, Mori would put him down gently and they would maintain their friendship... just a bit more distanced and without the awkward moments. And Mori wouldn't insist on being called Takashi, either.

In the less positive possibilities, Mori would treat Harry like everyone else and not talk to him. Those scenes made Harry believe that maybe he really could cut ties with the Hosts. Mori and Hani could be seen as his best friends, and while most believed that Mori followed Hani, the opposite was just as true. If Mori left Harry, than Hani would, and the rest of Harry's friends at the Host Club would as well.

Sometimes Harry hated that he couldn't be an optimist just the once.

"It's cold outside."

Harry jumped and whirled around. Mori was standing right in front of him, in the space that had been behind, but his thoughts were rambling even then and... well, the point was that Mori – _Takashi_, though he might not be Takashi soon – was standing about two feet in front of Harry. Somehow that seemed like a far more intimate distance than the slightly-closer space they had shared while dancing, and Harry's brain sort of... froze.

And when Harry's brain froze like it did, in a loop of the thought "W_hat do I do? What do I _–" he suddenly found Mori even closer than he had been a moment ago and looking worried. "Are you okay?"

His brain jolted back to life and Harry nodded hastily, turning his face away and feeling the cold sting his cheeks all the more. At least the light out here was dim, else his blush would likely be quite visible. He might have redefined the word "red" again. That wasn't much fun in general, mostly because it was the most embarrassing thing ever.

And he realized that this might be the ideal moment to confess to Mori and escape into the crowded ballroom before there could be a fall out. He could glue himself to Fred and George for the night and successfully avoid Mori-who-he-couldn't-call-Takashi. He could...

Harry slipped away from Mori quickly. He didn't mind having the Wild Type Host in his personal space one bit, but he needed to be able think. Harry had to be able to do _something_. This was his only chance, as far as he could see it.

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks – just Tonks to anyone who _didn't_ have a death wish – was not the most rational of people. When she wanted something, she got it, as could be seen in the case of one Remus Lupin. When they had met again a year and a half ago at Sirius' house in London, she found herself falling back in love with the werewolf. She'd been whittling down on him since then, and he had finally agreed to give them the chance they deserved. Likewise, she wanted to see Harry happy and healthy.

It wasn't until New Year's Eve that she realized that he already was happy with where his life was at the moment and that maybe he didn't need to confess his love like Tonks had needed to.

She had entered the grand ballroom of the Hitachiin estate on Remus' arm, happy with that and chatting with him about nothing. Her hair was comparatively normal, grown long and blue-black, her eyes the usual violet that went stunningly with the purple and black gown that Sirius had bought for her. He had such good taste! And she looked completely exquisite with her beau, so she was really in heaven.

They met the mother of the Hitachiin twins and Tonks found the woman to be like an older version of herself, only a bit more interested in making strange (but amazing) clothing rather than Tonks' fixation with having a fun look. They'd hit it off immediately.

After the fireworks display, they had ended up conversing about the Host boys – Tonks had met most of them and had heard plenty about them – and Harry.

"It's obvious that he likes his life, even if he is worried," Hitachiin Yuzuha informed Tonks with a giggle over some champagne. "Of course, I've only met Harry-kun twice, but he seems genuinely happy how he is. I'm sure you know that already of course, as your far closer to him that I could dream to be, but with the life that boy has had, it's nice to see him how he is nowadays. When I heard from Hikaru and Kaoru that he was in Japan I was afraid that he would be a recluse, but... well, I've already gone on to that part of it, haven't I?"

That was when Tonks realized that she had butted in to something that she probably shouldn't have butted into. And, while that revelation caught her unawares, the next one was one that she had been fighting for a while; that she'd picked a really _dumb_ way to go about it. True, she was only depriving Harry of his wand for a week, but the loss of a wand had been enough to drive wizards mad in the past. Harry was stronger that that, of course, and it wasn't like she'd snapped it, but a wandless wizard was a desperate wizard. Desperate wizards tended to use accidental magic more often than normal.

Maybe she should have been clued in to that when Harry exploded Sirius' best tea set yesterday.

Tonks was whisked away by Remus for a dance, and after that she dismissed herself. She really had buggered things up. Harry was happy because he had friends, and Harry being happy was the important things, wasn't it? Only _she_ had done something that might screw things up completely for him, and she hadn't even thought of the possibility of Harry being rejected or how that might effect him psychologically. The kid had enough issues as it was, and Tonks realized far too late that she had probably made everything far worse.

When she found the second ballroom that the students were using, she asked the red-haired boy – one of Yuzuha's sons, though she didn't know which one – to bring Harry to her for a moment. He didn't seem to recognize her (not surprising since her hair wasn't the bright pink it had been) but complied, returning with the boy in question.

Tonks led him out into the hall and, with a sheepish smile, pulled his wand out of her purse and handed it to him.

Harry didn't look puzzled by the action, didn't ask why she had given it back early or anything. He simply took the wand from her, drew in a deep breath, and pushed it up his sleeve where he had undoubtedly had his holster. Then Harry smiled widely to her in acknowledgment and left. No actual thanks. It was as if he had expected her to return the wand to him that night.

It took her three minutes, the time it took to traverse the distance from the second ballroom back to the first, to realize just why that might be.

* * *

Harry inhaled deeply, keeping his head bowed. "I... I know that this isn't something you want to hear," he started. He felt like a deer in front of a car. "But I've got to say it anyway, you know? I just... Mori-senpai," he couldn't call him Takashi when he knew that right was going to be revoked momentarily, "I like you. I don't know how much, if it's just a crush or anything more serious, but I like you. I figure... I figure that I can quash it. I already know you don't feel the same, just... well, we can avoid awkward situations if you know, can't we? I'm really sorry that I have to put this on your shoulders, a-and whatever your decision..."

Merlin, why was it so hard to say this? It should be straight forward! He hadn't felt this horrible lump in his throat when he'd thought of how he could confess, his eyes hadn't prickled like this... but he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't going to let Tonks' stupid bloody trick break him. She hadn't meant to break him, and he certainly wasn't going to break on _accident_. If Voldemort's cruciati hadn't driven him off the deep end, then surely this shouldn't.

This seemed ten times harder than asking Cho out had, or facing the dragon, the merpeople, the maze, even Voldemort himself. He would honestly prefer any of those scenarios to... this.

Harry left without finishing his sentence and hid in the bathroom for a solid minute to calm himself (luckily, it was a high-ceilinged bathroom, so he didn't even think of being confined as such).

Then he was all smiles as he went back to the party. He talked with Fred and George about pranks – not once did they pry or try to get him to do anything, a sure sign that they knew something was up – and whenever he saw Mori's head above everyone else, he turned away. Sometimes those steely eyes were boring into his own and Harry couldn't stand it. Others it seemed that Mori had not yet spotted him, and he made sure that Fred or George was between them at such an angle that he wouldn't be particularly notable.

Harry was all smiles and laughter and his mask didn't crack even once. Well, he had a lot of experience with masks, and he'd only gotten better, so it was no surprise. Not even Sirius could see through him. Tonks certainly hadn't when she gave him back his wand.

Sometimes, Harry wondered if his skill with masks was unhealthy, but he pushed that to the wayside, just like everything else. It could be dealt with later.

**Author's Note: Nothing really important to say this time... but poor Mori didn't get the chance to reply. *sniff***

(1) Yes, I realize that evenings don't "dawn". I'm not an idiot... it's just that saying that the evening "dawned" it makes you lot backtrack. **:**D

(2) Bill and Fleur are not together at this moment in time. Not that they won't ever get together, I'm leaving that open to interpretation, just that they are not together _now_. Since there was no reason for Bill to remain in England with Voldemort neutralized, there wasn't really an opening for them to get together, you know? So he's currently dating an American muggle archeologist who is working on the pyramids.


	24. Chapter 24

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

**Contains 1 omake. Read at your own discretion. (Kinda gross, kinda funny, takes place in chapter 5, post-Karuizawa and pre-Weasley visit.)**

Chapter 24

The mask didn't lift. All the next day, when Harry's "family" were getting in the last of their time together – flying, sight-seeing, and visiting the temples – Harry had on his happy-mask which was caught fully by the paparazzi that appeared without fail no less than three minutes after the group apparated to any location but the Black and Potter manses. Harry maintained his façade, pretending that there was absolutely nothing wrong in the world.

He wasn't as good with that particular mask as he thought, however. Maybe because the last time he had used it was over a year ago, but Harry gave small signs that were imperceptible to all but those who knew him best. An extra moment's pause after apparition to catch his balance when he had perfected the art a year before, or when he started a smile he would stretch his lips too far, a slightly flat laugh... well, suffice to say that anyone who knew the Boy-Who-Lived sufficiently would know that he wasn't as happy as he was going to be made out in the papers.

The fact that he was surrounded by four such someones and two others who were starting to catch on meant that by the end of the day, when Harry and Sirius were seeing the rest off at the airport, the dog animagus had a promise extracted by the group to make sure that Harry didn't descend into pits of despair. Remus had the insight to ask if Harry had his wand back, and when Tonks replied that yes, he did, and no, he hadn't mentioned telling a certain tall, dark, and handsome Host about his feelings, the rest were left rather confused.

Harry returned to the group with his soda in hand, completely oblivious to the fact that they realized something was up. Hugs went around, and he allowed his mask to crack slightly, but only the barest of cracks. He didn't want them to leave, because they were about as close to family as he would ever get... on the other hand, he did want them gone. The Death Eaters – and now all of the wizarding world, particularly the Brits – were converging on Japan in pursuit of him. While he could have the Japanese aurors protect his friends (as muggles in the know, they were under a protection program of sorts), his "family" were all on their own.

So he was both sad and happy to see them off at the airport that day. Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he ignored it. There was too much to do, most of it involved getting home and going to sleep. He hadn't had a single wink the night before, his mind whirling with too many thoughts, and he was running off of sugar and caffeine by that time. Before he could apparate home, Sirius stopped him.

"Meant to give this to you earlier," was all Sirius said in explanation and he plopped a tiny ring box in Harry's hand before apparating away with a smile and small wave. Harry blinked owlishly and stuff the box in his pocket to open at home. Knowing Sirius, it was something of his father's that he had been entrusted with to bestow upon Harry when the time was right or some such rot, meaning it could wait until he was home, when there wasn't a horde of magical people coming to harass him. He apparated away with a sharp, yet still muted, crack.

Midway to his rooms, Rory appeared and informed Harry that someone had come by while he was out. Harry informed the elf to talk to him later; he had a bath to take and then some much-needed sleep to see to. And brooding. There was much brooding and – hopefully – self-distraction to take place that night while he waited for the sandman to drop by (who, unlike Santa and the Easter Bunny, was _not_ real).

Back in his rooms, Harry opened the small black box and was unsurprised to find a note in it. He picked it up to see just what it was that Sirius had given him, and was mildly surprised. A Claddagh ring (1), with its heart made of rubies, hands and band of gold, and the crown of some karat of white gold. He read over the note and was less surprised to find out that it had been his father's and that these particular Claddagh had been purchased by James as "Club Rings" for the Marauders, each with their own gem. Harry had seen Sirius wearing his on his right hand, the amethyst heart twinkling merrily as the ring faced outward to signal his single status – it faced inward the past months as a tribute to his relationship with Ranka – and Remus occasionally wore one with a pale blue heart, but Harry hadn't figured there was any meaning behind their rings aside from the standard meaning behind Claddagh.

Harry felt a smile tug his lips, which was strange, really. He had stopped faking as soon as he apparated back home, so he was feeling rather morose. Mementos of his parents that Sirius would occasionally spring on him did tend to cheer him up, if only slightly. It occurred to Harry to wonder if Sirius had perhaps noticed his mood through the metaphysical mask, but he dismissed the notion with ease.

It was as he was disrobing to take a bath – he was stiff and he was tired and sweet _Merlin_ it had been cold outside! – that Harry noticed his phone was in his pocket and that he had turned it off. The revelation caused him to sigh mentally. When apparating, Harry and Sirius had found it was generally a good rule of thumb to turn off their phones because they started to go a bit wonky after a couple of apparations and would cop out entirely after seven. They had gone through about ten phones in total (mostly Sirius') before they figured it out, too. Harry had turned it off when he apparated to Sirius' the night before and forgot to turn it back on.

He lounged in the hot water for a good five minutes before he summoned the phone back to him from the counter – being able to use magic again was so _nice_ – and turned it back on. The fact that it started buzzing in his hand clued him in to missed calls and he let out a sigh. Calls meant messages, and his voice message system _hated_ him. He held down the "1" button and confirmed that he was connected before sticking it on speaker phone and relaxing.

"You have **twenty-three** new messages and **two** saved messages," the phone belted out in the annoying monotone woman's voice that, for some unknown reason, made Harry want to break his phone. But that was pretty pointless. Harry just couldn't stand it when people seemed to lack emotion... which made it all the more odd that he had never disliked Mori since, at first meeting, he could be construed as being "robotic". "New message, left December thirty-first at ten-seventeen p.m."

The phone crackled slightly before it changed its voice to the low tones of one Nekozawa Umehito. "Kukukuku... don't forget, Potter-kun, that the Black Magic Club is having a party for the New Year tomorrow. Be at my home before midnight... we will be performing a ritual and your participation is integral... Good-bye..."

"To repeat this message, press –"

Harry clapped his phone shut and opened it again, hitting the speed dial for Nekozawa. He'd forgotten about that! And he'd promised to come before the break had even started, so there was certainly no ducking out now. Oh well, he could remain conscious and hopefully not in what Sirius called "inferius mode" for another few hours. There was still about four hours until the time he _had_ to be there, but leaving all the prep to the rest of the club was just tactless. He promised to be there in an hour at the most – he had to wake himself up and gather everything for the ritual after all – and slumped back in his bath mournfully. And here he was hoping to manage some sleep tonight!

On his way out, Harry slipped his father's Claddagh on his right ring finger facing out and apparated away, simply leaving his phone on his bed.

He completely forgot that he had another twenty-two messages waiting for him, and, sadly, the technology gods decided they didn't like him as a power outage erased all pending messages being held by his phone company.

* * *

The attempt on the first of January, 2007, for the Hosts to _all_ go to the shrines did not go as planned. Firstly, Tamaki seemed to have forgotten about coming entirely, and when he was called, the woman in charge of the Second Suou Mansion informed Kyouya that Tamaki was playing New Year's games with the staff and his father, but that she would give him a message when he had a spare moment. Considering the big deal that Tamaki had made over the idea the night before, the rest of the Club had been confused by his skipping and decided to congregate the next day as well in hopes that he would make it then.

Even if he _had_ made it on the first day of the New Year, however, things would not have gone quite as everyone wanted them to, and not even in the regular ways that things tended to get bollixed up with the Host Club either. While they stayed most of the day at the temples, several people in the group were unduly agitated. Haruhi seemed anxious for no reason that anyone in the group could figure, and Hikaru was depressed and antsy, having been rejected by that same girl. The one that was acting oddly that wasn't expected, however, was one Morinozuka Takashi.

It was Hani who first noticed the behavior of his cousin, naturally, and unlike the other Hosts, he knew that it had begun the night previously rather than that morning. About ten minutes after the fireworks display at the Hitachiin New Year's party, Takashi had excused himself for a breath of air (or so Hani had explained it to the girls who were watching him eat cake) and gone out on the veranda. A few minutes later, Hani had seen Harry with his twin-friends from the UK, and Mori had appeared some minutes after that looking... confused, for lack of a better word.

Not that this was picked up by any of the girls. All Morinozuka were experts of self-control (when they wanted to be, though Satoshi was far more inclined to being open) and keeping up a front that they released only around friends, family, or (in Takashi's case) when he was sleepy – however, he also got a bit goofy when he was sleepy, without fail – and so no one other than Hani noticed the change in his demeanor. To Hani, he looked confused, concerned, and thoughtful; to everyone else he was just being Mori.

After Harry had left with his group that night, Hani had noticed Takashi pulling out his phone and pressing one of the digits on his speed dial. Apparently the phone he was calling – Hani was certain that it was Harry's – was off, as Takashi was almost immediately saying "We need to talk. Call me back." This was repeated once again during the car ride as Takashi grew almost _fidgety_, and the next day when Hani came by in one of his family's cars to pick up his cousin to go to the shrines, he heard Satoshi mention Takashi doing it twice more the morning and once the night previous, though Satoshi had no idea that Hani was listening to the phone conversation with Hani's own younger brother, or who his older brother was trying to call.

As they wandered the festival, Hani could specifically note eleven more phone calls that his cousin made, and he suspected there were a few more besides. By the time they left for the day, around four in the evening as the sky began to grow dark, Hani could honestly say that he hadn't seen his cousin so nervous or worried about anything in his entire life, and Takashi could be quite worried, such as if Hani was injured he would become a complete mother hen. This behavior extended somewhat to the rest of the Club, though not as much.

Although Hani guessed that it extended to Harry quite a bit, he had no evidence to back it up beyond the mountain rescue almost three weeks ago. The fact that Takashi had run off to join the rescue team without even consulting anyone else spoke volumes. Outside of family, Harry was probably Takashi's best friend, which was odd since Harry hadn't actually started hanging about the Hosts very much until Takashi took the initiative to invite him along to go swimming with the club in September. Harry had been Takashi's first friend outside of the family (both literal and Host) since primary school, so it made sense that he would be very concerned with the younger boy.

It was still surprising that Takashi seemed more worried about Harry not picking up his phone (if Hani was right about who was being called, which he was sure he was) than any other time in his life, including any worry he'd shown for Hani. It was almost... discomfiting to the younger of the cousins.

When the car rolled to a stop in front of Harry's house instead of Hani's, the younger senior realized that he had been spacing out in the car, which was usually something that Takashi did. Takashi got out of the car as soon as it had stopped, murmuring that he would be back in a moment. The lack of response from Harry since the night previous – for there was no denying now that he had been calling their emerald eyed compatriot – had obviously gotten to Takashi.

Hani observed curiously as Takashi walked up the wide steps to Harry's small western-style mansion. It appeared much like any other mansion from the front, if slightly old fashioned in its construction, but Hani knew that it was even twice as large on the inside if not more and that there were some strange animals in small environments in the back as well as the seeming sentient plants in the greenhouses. For anyone who didn't know Harry but did know what was behind the estate, they would have hesitated before even doing so much as ringing the door-bell.

Takashi simply strode up, knocked twice, and entered as Harry had told them to. The door was latched shut for less than a minute before Takashi left the house and was walking back to the car, looking no less worried than before. If anything, he seemed more anxious than he had been before they rolled to a stop in front of the house. Takashi had seemed a bit less apprehensive when he'd been getting out of the car – more fidgety, but less worried – and in spending not even a minute inside had him a bit pale faced and actually gnawing on his lip! Hani had seen the most emotive behavior of anyone from Takashi, but he had _never_ seen his older cousin so visibly concerned. A softening or hardening of his expression or darting glances, certainly, but not anything that would be notable to anyone at first glance.

"Rory said he isn't home," Takashi answered the unasked question – another oddity, as he almost never spoke without being addressed first. He had had his phone pressed to his ear again almost as soon as he was out of the mansion and had murmured something into it before clapping it shut and getting back in the car. He didn't mention it, but Hani knew that it was at least the sixteenth in a long string of calls to their wizard friend.

Hani nodded and, when Takashi sat at his side again, pressed Usa-chan into his lap. It wouldn't actually do much good, but it as a practiced tradition between them. When Takashi was in any sort of state, Hani would give him to bunny doll and simply sit at his side to help him calm down. It was more a gesture than anything else, but the tiny smile that flickered on the taller's features showed that he appreciated it despite its ineffectiveness. The little chain of honey-blossoms around Usa-chan's neck that Harry had given him so many months ago seemed to be the bit that gave Takashi the most solace right then.

If Takashi was going to tell Hani what, exactly, was wrong, then he would, and Hani could wait as long as it took. He might look like a child, and he often acted like one, but Haninozuka Mitsukuni was nothing if not patient in a way that no genuine child could be. So he was going to wait.

They arrived at Hani's family's estate only twenty minutes later and were both out of the car not long after with Usa-chan hanging loosely from Takashi's hand and Hani walking at his side. Both changed into something more fitting for an evening spent at home with family – they were immediately regulated child-care duties by Hani's older sister Hitomi – and they took care of all the younger children of the family dutifully.

In the time between their return to Hani's home and dinner, Takashi called Harry twice more, making eighteen at Hani's count, though he suspected there had been at least two calls that he didn't know about.

For a time after dinner, Takashi was otherwise occupied. Finally, as the Morinozuka side of the family was preparing to head back to their own estate (though it was only half a kilometer down the road), Hani saw Takashi pull away from everyone for one last moment, idly holding down a number on his speed dial before pressing the phone to his ear. From his demeanor, Hani could tell that his favorite cousin wasn't expecting anything short of the answering machine that had greeted him the past twenty-four hours.

His head perking up and the tensing of his shoulders clued Hani into the fact that there was something going on, finally.

The phone was pressed to his ear for a full minute before Takashi actually said anything, but it wasn't anything good. The obvious drop in his mood at the end of that minute, before he spoke, couldn't be good, and as Hani closed in he could hear the now quite familiar request to call back.

Something had happened, and Hani wondered if waiting was the best option this time.

* * *

"You do realize that this is the seventh time we've tried this ritual, right?" Harry sent a speculative glance towards Nekozawa. While the Black Magic Club was congregated in the ritual room in the Nekozawa Family Dungeons (mostly used for rituals and potions brewing), the parental units of most of the club were upstairs having some sort of social function. The children of those upstairs who did not want to hang about with the creepy club – or who the creepy club did not want to reveal actual magic to – were in another of the ballrooms, also upstairs. "It didn't work then."

"That's true, Potter-kun, but I found the flaw," Nekozawa showed Harry his immense book of rituals. "I mixed up the positions at the head and foot of the formation. The magic has to work its way up, and I have been placing the core symbol at the foot where you always stand and the specialization rune at the head position, when it ought to be the other way around. As the person in our club with the strongest core, you are supposed to be fueling the specialization runes. The book said that it could work either way, but obviously that is not the case."

"You really want to have scent-changing candles, don't you?" (2) As the creepy grin spread over Nekozawa's face – thought he wasn't wearing his cloak or wig, it retained the creepy-factor – Harry could only roll his eyes and set to work on writing the main runes of the ritual, just as he had six times before. The first time he was surprised had yielded only an unconscious Nekozawa and a puddle of melted wax – not to mention it stole several hours of much-needed time from Harry's already packed schedule – while the second turned the candles into a plume of incense that did not disperse for three days from the basement lair of the Black Magic Club. Similar results followed each subsequent attempt at school. Why Nekozawa wanted scent-changing candles, however, Harry did not really want to know.

This time they did succeed, and Harry apparated home with a stiff back and aching knees from his work on painting the symbols on the floor. This prompted a second bath to ease himself before he went to bed and was pleased to find that he fell asleep before his head even touched the pillows.

It was two in the morning, and Harry did not look at the cell phone that lay inconspicuously on his bed coverings, advertising that he had voice mail yet again. In the tossings and turnings of his dreams, the phone fell on the floor on the opposite side of the bed from where Harry lay, its silenced buzzing going unnoticed by the boy who lay dreaming (of all things) about a Siberian Husky pressing through a shower of cherry blossoms as though it were a fierce snowstorm, howling in a nonexistent wind to be heard when it released no sound. (3)

When Harry awoke the next morning, he wondered what Nekozawa put in those candles, because they obviously augmented one's dreams. Then he realized that he hadn't blown it out while he was asleep – the never-melt charms and household fire proofing made it unnecessary to do so anyway – and decided that he would have to make sure he never left it on again. The heady smell of jasmine mixed with a light sandalwood and flowing vanilla, while pretty smelling, was a bit overwhelming after all. Also, the lingering scent of oranges was kind of odd mixed with the rest.

Harry willingly got up without his hour-or-so of random thought. He didn't much feel like thinking right then, because silence and a lack of direction would lead to too much thought about Mori. Instead, he rolled out of bed and winced. Plastic cracked under him and he pulled his cell phone out from underfoot. He could go out and replace it that afternoon, but he'd _liked_ that phone. It had pictures on it that he didn't feel much like giving up.

Still, he didn't lament the loss, knowing he could take new pictures. They weren't singularly unique, and Sirius had most of them on his phone too. Harry wrote a note to Sirius and gave Hedwig her first mail job in months, informing the older wizard that his phone was broken and would be replaced later in the day, though Sirius would have to sign it onto their plan.

The rest of that day went rather normally. The new phone was bought later in the day – around seven since Sirius had a date with Ranka that he would _not_ cancel – and connected to the number of crushed one and Harry had no trouble re-downloading the numbers from his old phone onto the new one, though he was annoyed to note that any messages from before the night before at midnight were lost because of a power outage, and any after because of some glitch in the transfer. Still, he would survive. Harry spent most of the day studying – anything but History or Geography – since he had the Japanese equivalent of OWLs coming up soon, and also went over the latest deal with the Ootori Group that he was to meet with Ootori Yoshio over in two weeks time. It was a nice, slow-paced day.

That night he went to bed as soon as he had returned home from buying the new phone and fell asleep quickly again, his magical core sending him into a deep slumber to replenish from high usage throughout the day.

He didn't hear the call at 8:15 pm, the first on his new phone, nor the call at ten, nor one in the morning.

What he did hear was Rory apparating into his room – on top of him yet again, it really must be a fad of some sort! – which made Harry glare half-heartedly up at the creature. The lack of a newspaper meant that the wake-up call had nothing to do with the news in general, nor was it Sirius since he would have come to wake Harry up himself. That left important household things, business, or a house guest who was _not_ Sirius being the reason for the intrusion on Harry's sanctuary. This was backed up by Rory's prompt statement that, "Master Harry Potter is having a visitor. What does Master Harry Potter wish for Rory to do?"

He also noted that the candle had been left on again and it was now wafting the scent of metal polish in his direction. It was harsh and stung his nose, but it wasn't at all unpleasant. It made him think of something... but what?

"Lead them in; I'll be fifteen minutes," Harry sighed and waited until the elf had apparated off of his stomach before rolling out of bed and going through his morning rituals. He'd given a deadline before he met this mystery visitor – he probably should have _asked_ Rory who it was, but now he had to stick by his decision – and while the sharp crack had woken him quite thoroughly, he was still going to be sluggish. He also had to figure out what to wear. He grabbed a nice outfit (not a proper suit as he hadn't the time; if it was a business associate they would know well enough to take the blame for his under-dressing by dropping in unexpectedly so early in the day) and rushed through the shower.

Exactly fifteen minutes later, a sudden knock on the door caused Harry to jump. When he'd told Rory to lead the visitor in, he'd meant to his office on the first floor, not his bedroom! The first floor was the public levels, the front half being muggle friendly and the back half being magically oriented. The second floor was for friends and family (so far only Sirius, the Weasleys, Tonks, Remus, Hani, and Mori had been up on that level... though they were the only humans who had been in the house to begin with). The third level was supposed to be Harry only with the exception of people he _really_ trusted, and forced entry by family, of course. Rory had obviously taken him the wrong way.

"Just a moment," Harry grimaced and slipped his phone in his pocket (it was buzzing; he could check messages later). Quickly, he made his way to the door and opened it, an apology on his lips for the wait and the misunderstanding, but it died on his lips as soon as the door was open. "M-Mori-senpai! What are you doing here?" Harry practically jumped back from the door, which he realized an instant later was taken as an invitation, much to his chagrin. Mori entered the room before Harry could even think to lead him elsewhere (it wasn't exactly embarrassing to have Mori in his room; it was neat, and well decorated) and the door ended up half-closed.

It had been two days since Harry had even _seen_ Mori, and there had been no other contact between them in that time. It was kind of... well, awkward, like many situations with the older boy had been in the past.

When a mass of green was suddenly in front of Harry's face, he could only blink for a moment before it clicked with him. His Weasley sweater. And he still had Mori's turtleneck!

"Oh! Right," Harry's cheeks heated slightly, but not over much. It seemed that the reinvention of red from almost a month past would remain as his only such reinvention of any color for a little while. Hopefully. Harry took the sweater hastily from Mori (not that he would wear it much himself since it was so big on him, but it would certainly make a good night shirt in the winter months), set it on his desk (gaining several feet of distance between himself and Mori in the process), and called Tipsy. "Tipsy, what did you do with Mori-senpai's sweater from the..." he paused, thinking of the date, "29th of December? Could you bring it for him?"

"Of course Master Harry Potter, sir!" Tipsy popped away, those being the only words she uttered (aside from the initial "what is Master Harry Potter, sir and Master's Takashi wanting?") before popping away to Merlin only knew where. Harry sighed, wondering how they could be so chipper this early in the morning – it was about six-fifty in the morning, which raised the question of why Mori was there so early himself when surely he had the full day ahead of him – and fidgeted under the gaze of the characteristically somber senior.

"Sorry I didn't think of that earlier, Senpai," Harry murmured, keeping his back mostly turned to the older boy. He flipped open his phone and, ignoring the waiting messages for the moment, set upon the tedious trail of clicks that would (eventually) lead him to the missed call page. The phone had told him he had five messages (quite a sum given he had had the new phone for less than twelve hours!), and he figured it was probably better to attempt to occupy himself with that than face Mori. No effort of contact had been made on Mori's part, and that was all the closure that Harry needed. No need to actually confront him.

"You got a new phone," the tone was almost... bewildered? Well, it wasn't exactly normal to change phones so quickly, and most people – even at Ouran – kept to the two-year contracts on the phone systems. Honestly, it was kind of strange that Mori noticed, since the phone was the same model as his old one. The change from dark green to a more grayish color was a bit notable though.

"Yeah, I accidentally stepped on mine yesterday and it broke," Harry lowered the phone. It was rude to play with his phone when he had a guest, but... "Magic can't fix electronics, since they pretty much cancel each other out. It takes a lot of complex equations that I couldn't even begin to understand to allow them to coexist at all. Sirius took me to get a new phone on my number last night. And then there was this power outage that screwed up everything at the phone company or something. Completely wiped my messages, and I had a lot of them that I was meaning to check yesterday. It knocked out most of the other things tied to my account, but at least the phone numbers were still there. Kinda sucks though, eh Senpai?"

There was silence for a moment while Harry tucked his phone back in his pocket, half turned to Mori, though slightly more away than towards. Harry assumed that Mori was silent because he was Mori, and Harry was just Harry, another person with a crush on him, this one just more mentally screwed up, hopeless, and male than the usual fangirls. Harry, however, simply felt awkward and was cursing Rory for leading Mori to his room. That couldn't last more than three seconds as Harry knew he was more to blame; he hadn't been terribly specific in his orders, and Rory knew that Harry _did_ trust Mori, so it wasn't the elf's fault.

When Mori spoke, Harry decided that he really ought to stop being surprised when the older boy did so, as it seemed all too common an occurrence between them lately.

"I wasn't kidding," he stated firmly. Harry blinked and turned a bit more around to Mori. Kidding? What could he have been kidding about? Really, Mori wasn't the sort to joke about much, though Harry had seen a sort of smile flit across his face on occasion as though he had some sort of joke running through his head. "About calling me Takashi."

Harry's hand went slack at the statement and fell listlessly from his pocket to hang at his side. He was sure his jaw was doing the same. With eyes the size of saucers (or so it seemed to him), Harry realized that he must look like an idiot and clapped his mouth shut tight, the light blush that stained his cheeks darkening ever so slightly in his embarrassment and general surprise. His eyes glued back to the deep red carpeting of his room so he could contemplate what had been said without any undue embarrassment.

"Sure thing... Takashi," Harry muttered. Mori – no, _Takashi_ – still wanted him as a friend. He couldn't recall Mo- _Takashi_ telling any of the other Hosts to call him Takashi, or anyone else for that matter, and that thought warmed Harry up slightly. He'd been used to having Ron, the fair-weather friend, who would drop him the moment such a revelation as the one Harry had dumped on Takashi's shoulders came to light, and the knowledge that such a thing wasn't going to make them any less friends was a good one in his mind. Maybe a friendship with fewer of the touching moments – given Takashi seemed a tactile person, that might be a bit odd – but a solid one still.

Mor – Takashi – seemed about to do or say something, Harry wasn't sure which, but Tipsy popped in again just then with a dark blue turtleneck folded neatly in her small arms and passed it along to Harry before popping away without waiting for her usual thanks. Harry eyed the four feet between him and Takashi – when had he gotten that close? Harry certainly hadn't taken any steps toward him – with trepidation. Again, Takashi beat him to the punch, or rather, the step, and closed the gap as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.

For someone who had just recently been confessed to by a person of the same gender, Takashi seemed terribly nonchalant about several things, including personal space between him and the person who just so happened to have confessed to him. Were he any other person, Harry might have suspected that Takashi was toying with him. Plenty of wizards would have done the same with Harry if they knew he liked them in any capacity; but Takashi wasn't like that.

Harry was quick to hold the turtleneck up in front of him as a sort of barrier-slash-offering. He even considered reassessing Takashi's character when the taller boy remained in that one-foot bubble of space, lifting a hand to the sweater but not taking it. Harry kept his eyes averted.

"You said it was my decision, didn't you?" Takashi asked, though it wasn't really a question. Harry nodded, his eyes half-closing in the deep rumble of Takashi's voice. The scent of some sort of aftershave caught his attention, mixed with the smell of metal polish... but the candle had switched over to strawberry, hadn't it? "You didn't wait for me to reply."

"Didn't think I needed to," Harry fidgeted slightly under the gaze that he knew was leveled at the top of his head that was kept bowed. First he finds out that Takashi did still want him as a friend, and immediately after comes the soft let-down. Fabulous. Harry glared half-heartedly at a darker red patch of carpet where he was meaning to set up a second wardrobe as if it were responsible, though he knew quite well that it wasn't.

"Hn."

Shouldn't that have been an "Aa"? But no, it was a "Hn." A negative answer. Harry shrunk in a bit on himself and held out the sweater more insistently. A hand finally grasped it and Harry couldn't help but let out a small sigh. Thank Merlin! He had spent the past... well, the past _year and a half_ in an emotional upheaval. He didn't need more right now to make him _more_ unstable. No more disappointments, no more sadness, just some peace for once! But with the Death Eaters and Dumbledore out there, just _waiting_ for him...

"Chin up." Just the same as in the dance lessons, Takashi's index and middle finger went under Harry's chin and lifted it up, as if by making him look away from the offending patch of carpet his spirits would instantly rise as well. It was a foolish notion.

Something that did not, however, happen in the dance lessons was that Takashi leaned down a few inches.

Something further, their lips touched.

Harry had never really imagined what his first kiss would be like. He'd heard words from the older boys (and Seamus) around Hogwarts about kissing in general – sloppy, wet, ecstasy, and "I was too busy feeling her up to pay attention to her mouth" were common descriptors – and given it no further thought. When he was younger, because he wasn't interested in girls or boys just yet. When he was older it was because he had a plan, and that didn't involve kissing (that plan, however, was already falling down around his ears a year after making it).

This was short, sweet, and somewhat awkward. Takashi had simply pressed Harry's chin upward and their lips met in a sort of soft embrace, tentatively kissing. Neither of them did anything in that two seconds before the fingers lowered from Harry's chin and Takashi took a small step back, the sweater now in his hands and a miniscule smile – a genuine one – adorning his features.

"I like you, too, Harry," Takashi stated.

Somehow, in that five second space, Harry's entire world had flipped in the same way that his stomach had done somersaults in the past couple of months. That, he didn't mind.

What he _did_ mind, however, was that as Takashi left his room without waiting for any response from the shell-shocked Harry (just as Harry had made Takashi chase him, Harry could chase him, couldn't he?), his mind caught up with him. His priorities were to keep his friends safe at this point, and something like... like _this_ was too close to go unnoticed, to go unexploited.

"Wait, Mori-se –" Harry cut himself off. "Takashi!" He rounded the door jam, intent on following his apparently-requited crush (any other term he dared not contemplate) to tell him exactly why nothing could happen between them and how he was really sorry and if it would help he would move to Atlantis –

Such thoughts seemed to have no place in reality as Harry found himself shoved up against the wall just outside his room, the back of his head cushioned from the blow by a hand, and lips pressed against his once more. "More" was a good way to describe this particular kiss, not even half a minute from Harry's first. There was more force, more emotion, more contact... Harry found he quite liked this "more" and gave in as his mind blurred out of existence.

It was obvious that neither of them had _any_ idea what they were doing. When they moved at all, Harry found Takashi's nose poking his cheek in an uncomfortable way, and his hair was being pulled a bit at the back. The fiddling that Takashi was doing with Harry's right hand was also kind of uncomfortable, but it stopped after a moment. Takashi licked Harry's lip, which felt quite lovely actually, and he opened them. It became oven more obvious that they didn't know what they were doing at this point, but through experimentation over the course of a single breath they did find out a few interesting things.

The first was Harry's discovery that by running his tongue along the roof of Takashi's mouth, the older boy would shudder. He'd been afraid he'd done something wrong until the gesture was reciprocated and he discovered that shivering was actually a good thing while kissing... unless it was cold out of course.

They pulled apart after about a minute, both panting slightly and Harry blushing quite a bit (he noted that Takashi was blushing too though, so it wasn't _quite_ as bad). The Boy-Who-Lived found he'd liked that quite a lot and he would love to do something more of the sort, but the danger...

Takashi's lips met Harry's forehead, right where his scar was visible through his fringe. "I'm in no more danger than I was yesterday," he murmured. Harry reflected that he had heard Takashi's voice far more today than normal (and such a nice voice at that), and since Takashi wasn't one to mince words... it added credence to everything he had said thus far.

Perhaps if Harry thought on it, he would be disturbed by how easily he trusted the words, but for now he found he could do naught else. Takashi wasn't a liar by any means, and really, he'd been in the newspaper with Harry, the picture from the pensive including them standing together, a bit closer than might be common. If the Death Eaters had truly been ignorant to Harry's friendship to the older boy – how could they be, after the incident with Draco? – there was the chance of a snake standing up to Salazar of them being so now. Could this actually put him in any more danger than the revealing to the_entire world_ had?

Takashi released Harry from the wall and left (apparently they were visiting the temples... again... because Tamaki hadn't shown up either of the past two days, and Hani was waiting for him in the car). Harry returned to his room in a daze to the lingering scent of metal polish from the candle's previous cycle and strawberries from the new one. He wondered how long it would be before the next metal polish cycle; he really liked that scent...

Harry pulled his phone back out of his pocket and checked his messages.

"You have **five** new messages. New message, left January second at eight-fifteen pm."

"We need to talk. Call me back." It was Takashi.

And the next message.

"We need to talk. Call me back." From ten pm.

"We need to talk. Call me back in the morning." From one am.

"We need to talk. Call me back." From five am.

"We need to talk. Call me back." From six-twelve am.

Harry couldn't hold back a laugh as he deleted the messages, noting as he did so that the Claddagh on his right ring finger had been turned inward, something he certainly hadn't done. Maybe the messages he was going to check yesterday had been the same thing. With the phone closed and back in his pocket, Harry hadn't expected it to buzz in his pocket again. Yet it did.

A single text message was awaiting him, having been sent mere seconds prior.

_Morinozuka Takashi 07:01:34:_ :-)

**Author's Note: This chapter is written as a tribute, both to my birthday and that of Hermione Granger (I am now 17 and Hermione would be 29... if I hadn't killed her two and a half weeks before her sweet 16. In celebration we have the first written kiss/snog of the story (and my first time writing a kiss/snog), my first success in getting a pair together (after writing fanfic for 5 years), my first time making it to 150k words, the loss of the "eventual" in "eventual mild sexual situations" from my warnings, and – in the words of HoorayTheWeird – the fact that I am, apparently, "the first person to use the word 'glomp' in a fanfiction without it sounding stupid"!**

**It is so hard to change what you call someone like that. You have NO idea. After typing Mori for two months and then some, through 23 chapters, it's pretty much impossible to call him Takashi... please excuse any future slips, but do point them out! On names: Mori is now Takashi to Harry (and thus narration). Hani is still Hani.**

(1) A Claddagh ring is a Celtic traditional ring that is nowadays used to signify relationship status (dunno about any hidden/traditional meaning or anything like that, sorry!). On the right ring finger facing outward it means that a person (male or female, doesn't matter) is single, right hand facing in means they are in a relationship, left hand facing out means engaged, and left hand facing in means married. Or I think that's right... this is just what I remember my dad telling me when I asked about his, so... you could look them up on wiki if you want, but I won't. I thought it would be a nice touch to add in, though.

(2) I _did_ say that this would have some bearing on future stuff back in... chapter 7? Was it really that long ago? Woah... Anyway, yeah, same ritual as the one at the start of chapter 7. It still has bearing on the future of this story... it's kind of a hint, but a very minuscule one.

(3) If you don't get the symbolism... a) Bisuko described her vision of Takashi as being a "Siberian husky" (Hani was a Pomeranian or something). b) The situation the husky is in in the dream mirrors Takashi's attempt to contact Harry. Cherry-blossom snowstorm equals Harry being dense about love and hard to get to, howling soundlessly being Harry not getting his messages... yeah.

_Omake – yes, I made an omake. I was bored. It takes place in the middle of chapter 5, right when Harry gets home from Karuizawa. I was going to include it back then, but I forgot..._

Harry left the Suou car that had been drafted to bring him back to the apartment, though he could have apparated home. The Hosts didn't know he could do that though, and as soon as Fujioka brought up that he _obviously_ didn't have a car, Suou arranged for one to take him back to Tokyo since he wasn't going to stay in Karuizawa anymore. This was just fine with Harry; he wasn't catching his portkey to London for another three hours after he was dropped off, and he had more jam to give Sirius before leaving anyway.

"Sirius, I'm home!" Harry called as he twisted his key, the small stag-shaped charm on the key chain poking him with an antler, and opened the door. An unpleasant scent assaulted his olfactory sense, but that was no surprise. Sirius wouldn't know a cleaning charm if it danced about in front of his nose wearing a lemon-scented, neon-pink thong.

Though the fact that it sounded like it was raining – when a look out the window could tell Harry that the sky was clear – did draw some attention.

Harry searched for the source of this noise, hoping that Sirius hadn't invested in a fake window, and found that it originated from – of all places – a small plastic shopping bag that was sitting out on the counter. And there were... specks... no, more like short, fat lines. Well, whatever they resembled, they were crawling along the inside of the bag.

Harry paled before his face went red.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK!"

There was a bag full of _maggots_ sitting out on the kitchen counter. _Harry's_ kitchen counter.

There would be hell to pay.

_(The scene above is actually based on what happened when my sister and I went to visit our mom around the time I started writing HPatHC, and my dad ended up leaving a bag with chicken bones sitting on the counter for two days. It was gross.)_


	25. Chapter 25

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter. Sort of fillery, but it's a lot of introspect for this one. Sorry!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 25

Harry spent all the Third second guessing himself. Was he right to protect the Hosts from something they didn't even know they were in danger from? He hadn't told them about Voldemort, his scar (well, Mori – Takashi – knew about his scar, but only that he'd had it since his parents died), or his true role in the wizarding world. He had mentioned that his parents were murdered by the leader of the Death Eaters who then went underground only to pop up again a year and a half ago and die after the attack on King's Cross. He had mentioned – briefly – the kidnapping by Lucius Malfoy and one Death Eater unknown that had resulted in his coma.

Harry had told them a few bits and pieces of the Hogwarts stories, the way to the Philosopher's Stone being guarded by traps that a trio of eleven year olds could get through without too great an effort. There had been some mention of the basilisk and the petrified students (told only in explanation of the scar in his elbow from that particular incident), though he hadn't mentioned his parseltongue ability; there had been no real reason to mention it after all, though he supposed maybe he ought to. Revealing that Sirius was actually an escaped prisoner from Azkaban wasn't as surprising to the group as it should have been – they had read the articles published in the muggle world on the matter – and tales of the Triwizard Tournament that a spiteful Death Eater had entered him in had them at the edges of their seats.

There were plenty of things that Harry told them that had them worried for reasons both good and not, and others they were less worried about than they might have been had they known all the facts. A game of logic was something they found fairly normal and not worrisome, as well as setting a plant on fire; death-defying stunts on a broom to catch a key and the coma itself had them worried when Harry found these things fairly easy to overcome. The Hosts knew more about his adventures than anyone but his "family", Ron, and Dumbledore.

But he hadn't told him why those adventures were so important, why Harry was always at the center of them. He hadn't told them that they were under Ministry protection or why they would need that protection to begin with, which was really quite selfish of him. Sirius had suggested telling them, which was perfectly reasonable, but he just couldn't do it, and for much the same reason as why he couldn't simply leave them.

Harry James Potter was a coward, or so he thought. In truth, he was simply quite attached to his new friends and was afraid that the revelation of Voldemort might be the straw that broke the camel's back. Even more so now that Mo- _Takashi_ apparently wanted to be... involved with him. That, more than anything, should have been more than enough reason to fess up, yet the more he thought of it, the less he felt that he could.

What Harry didn't realize was that his "cowardice" was more and more his protective instinct, overdeveloped as it was, clashing with his nature as a human, to be social. He wanted friends, and he wanted those friends safe. Instinctively, he knew that leaving them was a bid idea, that leaving them in the dark was a bad idea, and that making them dislike him would break him. These all clashed and created the current dilemma, which was something that he had no clue how to deal with.

The fact that he was supposed to be interviewing applicants for the job of being his chauffeur – all of them being aware of magic, thankfully, as Nekozawa had been the one to send him the contact information for the agency – meant that his attention was horridly split. The fact that he couldn't get his mind off the kiss – his first kiss and first snog, both of which made his mind squirm even as he held his body stiff – made that situation worse. And, since the drivers were aware of magic, they were aware of him, and most of them were terribly fan-ish. He did find one though, before returning to his house to agonize over his current predicament and attempt to study for his upcoming Saru exams (1).

The next morning and the thought session in his bed did not provide any further answers as the scent of lemons floated from the candle and the scent of Takashi came from the Weasley Sweater that Harry had used as a pillow for the night. Still, Harry felt significantly calmer as he got up to go about his day, even when Hedwig brought him a howler.

He was scheduled to study geography that day, as well as some Ancient Runes (how he hated that subject), and he had a floo call that evening with the Head of the Potter-Black's Plushy Buddies Corporation (started by his grandmother, Dorea Potter-Black) over a donation he had made to orphanages around the globe, and one after that with the head of his textile company about the plans for outsourcing jobs to other countries – he was hoping to keep the same number of jobs in Britain as before and simply create another factory in a less fortunate country to stimulate their economy, but he had to speak to Fergusson about it.

It was midway through his geography study time – it was so difficult to account for the 17 islands hidden from muggles, never mind the amount of inland that was completely unknown to them!) – that Harry's phone started buzzing. He was nervous. Was it Mo- _Takashi_? Was he meant to have called the older boy or something? He had no idea how any sort of relationship worked, and he wasn't entirely sure what he and M-Takashi were, really. Friends with benefits? Boyfriends? Lovers? Simply at a very awkward stage in their lives?

As the tiny screen on the front of the cell phone showed, however, it was not Mo-Takashi. "Harry-chan! Haru-chan was kidnapped!" Hani said as soon as Harry had greeted him. Previously, upon hearing such news, Harry had gone into full-on protective mode. Now, however, after over a year of not having to do anything death defying or anything, he calmly stood up and started walking to his room.

"Kidnapped? As in honest-to-goodness kidnapped or that those Lobelia-girls borrowed her again?" he asked over the line.

"A lawyer from Tama-chan's father's hotel chain said that she saw Haru-chan get pulled into a car," Hani explained. It was then that Harry noticed the lack of childish whine to his voice, but rather that he was all business. It was a strange thought, that Hani would act his age, but the thought was dismissed as Harry doubled his pace, already thinking of what he should bring with him – Peruvian darkness powder was a must.

"Can you give me the coordinates for where to meet you lot? I can get Sirius on the job too and contact the aurors," Harry asked quickly. The moment he'd heard the word "car" he'd become fairly certain that this had nothing to do with him, in that it wasn't Death Eaters (as if they would use anything so muggle as a _car_!), which made him wonder who was doing the kidnapping. Probably someone with something against one of the Host boys hoping to get a decent ransom for their friend. Or maybe someone wanted to ransom her to Sirius, since Haruhi had definitely been sen around the man.

There was a moment of silence – relative given the clamor in the background – before Hani spoke again. "Kyo-chan thinks he knows where Haru-chan is," Hani imparted. "We're in a cab right now, but we're still ten minutes away from there. He said the coordinates were..." he trailed off for a moment before listing off the longitude and latitude, which Harry knew fairly well. It was the right next to the apparition point nearest the ramen shop he frequented, a dry-clean service that was right on the alley.

"See you soon, Hani-senpai," Harry said before both phones were clicked and he set to work, sending a text message to Sirius. The adrenaline pumping in his veins was like a natural high that he only experienced nowadays in flight, and even then rarely. It was intoxicating. But Harry didn't allow himself to drift off topic in his thoughts and apparated to the small alley. He didn't even think of the press appearing, as they had been doing for the past... was it only five days? He was more interested in why Haruhi had been taken to a dry-cleaning service by her captors.

Many things may be said about the Weasley twins, and one of them is that they are ingenious inventors. This had been proven quite thoroughly when they came up with the "Extendable Ear" and other such marvels. While Harry did consider using one of their products, he found that somehow it lacked. It didn't lack anything in particular, it just lacked. Maybe it was his Gryffindor side coming out to play – it hadn't the chance in a long time – but Harry instead went around the back and knocked on the door.

When it was opened by a young man – no older than twenty-five, surely, and not much taller than Harry – who was looking a bit teary eyed, Harry realized that something was up. Again. The fact that he could actually see Haruhi tied to a chair by a sheet (with a shoe-knot of all things, and visibly loose) made that all the more obvious.

"Good afternoon, sir, Haruhi-kun," the adrenaline died down, leaving Harry slightly shaky. There was no need... again... but it was better safe than sorry. Even if it had been a prank of some sort this time, he would go to help his friends every time, even if each time it was a joke, for the fear that he really might lose them. Really, he was immensely pleased to find that she was safe and sound, without so much as a scratch on her. Harry liked healing, he even liked coming to the rescue, but he liked even more when it was unnecessary. Every time he had a potion that didn't need to be used, he felt just a little bit better about the world as a whole.

Or maybe he was just an idiot like Snape had always said. There was really no knowing.

Of course, the man panicked and pulled Harry through the door, allowing him to see an older man and another about the same age as the first. They were very inexperienced as to what they were doing, obviously. When he pulled out his phone to call of Sirius, the aurors, and tell the Hosts that Haruhi was fine and that they could probably forego kicking down the door or any other such thing, the third man panicked as well and tried to take the device away.

"Stop it," Harry warned. "I'm just calling my godfather to tell him that he doesn't need to bring in a SWAT team." This shut them all up quite soundly as they seemed to realize that Harry was one of the elite. Ironic in that any half-experienced group of criminals would have noticed the size-difference and taken him down, threat or no threat. Instead they bowed backwards to Harry's commands and hushed up while Harry called Sirius and said that he could call off the aurors (he made sure to talk in English so that any odd words would go unnoticed by the men), and that he could come if he liked, but to go through the back way.

It turned out that the three men ran a dry-cleaning service that had taken care of the laundry for the Suou hotels, but the contract had been terminated on the New Year by the matriarch of the Suou family, taking away 70 percent of their income. Harry untied Haruhi (it was very easy, as they really had tied it so loosely that he could almost slip the sheet off her thin wrists) while they spoke, and noted that they did a better job than even Rory, who was in charge of the laundry at the Potter household. When Sirius came bursting through the back door to find everyone talking, he got into the act, and exactly point-eight seconds before a knock sounded from the front of the shop, he could be found declaring that he would "totally use their laundry service!"

When Tamaki, Hikaru, Hani, and Mor-_Takashi_ entered the shop and found Harry sitting cross-legged in his chair, Sirius being himself, and Haruhi looking completely unharmed, they all calmed down... though Tamaki still took the opportunity to be the first hug his "daughter" (though he had not referred to her as such at the time, curiously enough) and apologize for the harrowing adventure. Hikaru got second hug, and when the second car arrived, Kasanoda got the third hug of the girl's admirers (2) (Harry figured that the hug Hani received didn't count as from an admirer since he didn't seem interested in Haruhi beyond a friend or sibling type relationship).

With the promise from Tamaki to talk to his grandmother and his father about resigning with the small business – not that it was necessary now that they had been signed with _the_ Lord Sirius Black and, by extension, _the_ Harry Potter (who was less known to muggles, but would eventually be a big name) – everyone left the shop. The multitude of paparazzi outside who immediately started snapping pictures of Harry in his comfy day-wear with his friends who were dressed for the temples and Sirius who was wearing a suit from his interrupted date with Ranka. It was an eclectic mix that would make the front page, the gossip columns, and likely decorate girls' walls worldwide in a matter of hours. It was honestly ridiculous.

"Mr. Potter, how does it feel to –"

"Why did you –"

"Is it true that –"

"Why Japan?"

"Who are these –"

"Mr. Potter –"

Harry grimaced mentally – he couldn't show any weakness to the world, let alone his adoring public and the Death Eaters who would be reading whatever this moment ended up in – and sighed just as mentally. Great. He had to deal with being chilly (it was, after all, January, and he hadn't dressed in anything warmer than a sweater and jeans) _and_ the paparazzi. Had he been thinking when they were still in the Laundromat, he would have gone out through the back door same as he entered to get to the apparition point, never mind what the muggles who ran the place would think. At least it would have saved him from… this.

Harry raised his hands in a placating gesture and the reporters hushed, though cameras still clicked wildly. "Please keep in mind that this is a muggle neighborhood," he began – or it would seem he began. Really, he was trying to figure out how to get his muggle friends away and keep his sanity intact. Reminding the reporters that they were around muggles – even if he didn't state that his friends were muggles – would stem the flow enough to stop the encroaching headache. "I can guarantee that I will not be footing your bills."

It wasn't really a warning, just a note. Still, the reporters did pause for a moment, which gave an opportunity. In particular, it gave Mo-Takashi the opportunity to strong-arm a path through the throng of clamoring reporters, a few rabid fans, and the wildly clicking cameras. With Harry's wrist clasped tightly in his hand and Hani riding on his shoulders, Takashi shoved a path through them, allowing the rest of the Hosts (as well as Kasanoda) to barely squeeze through behind them to make their own escapes, though Sirius made a human sacrifice of himself and stayed behind to keep the reporters at least somewhat busy.

As he was ushered into a swiftly flagged taxi, Mori-_Takashi_ sliding in beside him and Hani taking the other side, Harry let out a breath of relief. Being famous _sucked_.

He didn't often ride in cars – something that was going to change in about a week when his driver started – but he did know that, normally, it was the smallest person (or a smaller one than Takashi at least) that rode in the middle seat, as the 6'4" Host would be blocking the rearview mirror. Kaoru slipped into the passenger seat of the car and told the taxi driver to follow the black car that the rest of the group was taking back to the temples.

And, really, he could understand why the boy beside him – he still didn't know what yesterday made them – had placed himself between Hani and Harry. Sort of... though it was a terribly symbolic motion that a literature teacher would pick apart were it written in a book. Takashi was dedicated to Hani and had been since... well, all his life so far as Harry knew. Whatever it was that Takashi and Harry were to one another, Harry wasn't going to interfere with that dynamic; he wouldn't "get between them". Likewise, Hani wasn't going to "get between" Harry and Takashi.

The fact that Takashi had lifted his arm to give Harry a bit more room (and "discretely" have said arm over the younger boy's shoulders) caused Harry to lean on him slightly and made it so he wasn't squished up against the door. It was a highly intimate action to Harry, who didn't let just anyone hug him – the arm-over-the-shoulder motion was, in his book, a sort of half-hug – which he was sure that Takashi had noticed.

He almost wanted to _ask_ what exactly they were, but... well, there were other people around them, obviously. So it wasn't going to happen. It was one thing to confess to Takashi in private, even to be cuddled up to him like this (though Harry's face was feeling rather warm) with Hani and Kaoru in the car – to someone who didn't know what had transpired between the Wild Type and the young wizard but did know Takashi's personality at all, it would be taken as Takashi being his usual considerate self by not forcing Harry to be jammed up to the door – but bringing that up, especially around others, was sure to be more than a little embarrassing. It promised it, actually.

As they pulled away from the curb (and the reporters), Harry wondered just when he had been invited to accompany the Hosts on their outing to the temples, though he didn't protest. If he did, they would pull over, the reporters would reappear, and he would probably have the truth about everything divulged to the Hosts through one question mentioning his defeat of Voldemort. Hopefully, he could lose them before apparating home to study, though... well, he didn't much feel like studying all of a sudden.

It was as that thought flitted through his mind, that Harry thought of something that he really _hadn't_ been thinking of and probably should have. Mor-Takashi was not as safe as he might have been a few days ago, and it had nothing to do with Death Eaters.

Harry had forgotten about the fangirls.

While Takashi's fangirls from the school were generally shy, mild-mannered girls who would likely squeal (and cry) in secret over the thought of their beloved Mori-kun being at all taken with another boy _that way_, Harry's weren't half so nice. When he had popped into Diagon Alley after being released from St. Mungo's, he had felt rather like a rock star after he escaped the mob of people given the amount of panties, bras, and – Merlin forbid – g-strings that had been stuffed by various witches and wizards into his pockets (he was fifteen years old! It was disturbing).

Never mind those who were obsessive and delusional like Ginny or Colin Creevey; whatever fate the fangirls/boys brought down upon someone who did have Harry's affections would be horrible to contemplate. The impossible became reality around Ouran often enough as it was. Whatever it was that existed between Harry and Takashi was probably best kept secret if only to keep the fangirls and fanboys happy. His ruse to keep them complacent before going to Ireland with Sirius had been – telling the girls that he liked boys and the boys that he liked girls (it wasn't a lie, technically) – had only worked for so long before _he_ snapped and went into recluse mode to await his escape with Sirius to Ireland.

The rage accompanying this action had made him fear the wrath of the rabid fan.

"Harry-chan, what are you thinking about?" Hani asked, his head peeking around Takashi's torso. Harry leaned forward slightly, though he didn't lose any contact with Takashi (actually, he might have increased it a bit since his hand was now brushing the older boy's knee). Kaoru wasn't paying attention as he was already on the phone with his brother about something, likely to do with Haruhi.

"The horrors that are my fanclubs," Harry admitted. "I hadn't really though of it before, but they'll be absolute terrors."

"So you really are famous then?"

"Aa... yeah, I am," he responded a bit bashfully. "I said so, didn't I? That's part of why I came to Tokyo in the first place; I'm best known in Europe, particularly Britain. This is about as far away as I could get, and it's the last place anyone would have thought to look for me. No one here would have recognized me before without seeing this –" he pulled back his bangs, revealing the scar that, in all likelihood, Hani had only seen once or twice, "and I've been covering that up. Now though... well, my face is plastered over the front of every newspaper in the world."

"But _why_?" Hani looked genuinely confused, and while Harry knew what he meant by the question... well, he pretended to take it another way.

"I was injured about a week ago and had to go to a wizarding hospital to get fixed up." No need to mention the how of that one. If Takashi hadn't mentioned it, than Harry wasn't going to divulge the embarrassing episode unless directly asked by Hani (he was already stretching the unwritten law by taking the question the wrong way). "Tipsy used my name in the elevator though, and the woman in it with us told the papers. The article was worldwide next morning, and I've been dodging reporters, pictures, and fans all week. I thought they might be smarter than to mob me in a muggle area, but... well, they obviously aren't." Mori – _Takashi_ damn it! Why was it so hard to remember? – shifted slightly in his seat, though given they were all sort of crammed together, Harry noticed easily and sighed. "It wasn't your fault, Takashi."

The world seemed to grind to a halt at that statement. Hani _stared_ at Harry and Takashi as though Harry had purple skin (when they had both shown up for Harry's second dance lesson and Hani's second interrogate-Charlie-about-dragons session, Fred and George had spiked Harry's coffee to turn him purple) and Kaoru's head whipped around from the front seat, cell phone slightly slack in his hand, just as surprised. It took Harry a moment to process why they would react at all; only he and M-Takashi knew that he was calling Takashi "Takashi." Really, he had reacted the same way when Harry had first called him "Takashi-sensei", so it was hardly unexpected. Harry opted to ignore this.

"Anyway, that's why there seems to be about a million foreigners in the area right now," Harry continued as if he wasn't getting stared out. Knowing Hani though, the unanswered questions, both spoken and not, would have to be answered later. "They're mostly from Britain, but there are loads of others from what I've read. Actually, I've seen some people I know personally as well, though I haven't had the opportunity to say hello to them given the sheer amount of people who tend to appear at once."

Well, there had been the maybe-sighting of Oliver Wood at the first swarming, and he was sure that the Patils and Ernie McMillan's family had popped up on New Year's day when Harry and his "family" had been out. Also, he'd read an article on the second that reported that the post-poning of the up-and-coming Japan vs. Bulgaria Quidditch match due to some personal issues with Bulgaria's seeker, Viktor Krum. Both Krum and his purported girlfriend, the French veela and his fellow Twiwizard Champion Fleur Delacour, had been sighted in Tokyo. (They were not really dating, as far as Harry knew.) Harry had even received a howler from Fleur that very morning. Apparently, Harry was a hard person to find.

The reporters would disagree, he was sure, but Harry was more wondering why they cared... and why Hedwig had gone to find them.

Kaoru sent Harry another strange look before returning to his conversation with Hikaru, staring out the window instead, and Hani seemed to decide to hold his tongue on the matter... for the moment. Conversation returned to normal – that is, being not about Harry – with Hani talking, Harry interjecting on occasion, and Mori-Takashi simply being there, though he did pipe in with several sentences to settle a debate between Harry and Hani about the merits of scar tissue over proper healing of flesh (as Harry couldn't mention magic, it was hard to support his side). It was odd to feel Takashi's voice rumbling and vibrating through Harry's side, though it wasn't a bad odd, and Harry really did like his voice.

He honestly considered the Hosts friends, he had for going on three months now, but it was strange to think of being comfortable around people as he found he now was around them. It was almost surreal to the orphan, especially considering how much he knew they knew of him. Even the pitying looks from Tamaki had stopped _before_ the revelation of magic and they hadn't resurfaced – a good thing since Harry really did hate pity, unreasonable as he knew that to be. Life was good, really good, and he knew that it wouldn't be for long because he was Harry-Bloody-Potter.

As it was, Harry simply allowed himself to enjoy the waning New Year's festivities, ducking through the crowds to keep hidden from reporters and genuinely having a good time. He knew that he ought to study – exams were only a couple of months away and he wasn't even getting a formal education in his magical subjects anymore – but he didn't really _feel_ like studying. Besides, as Sirius had said many times before dragging Harry off to do Merlin only KNEW what, his "brain needed to cool off a bit."

At one point, Harry found himself standing in a line to get sodas with just Hani. Kasanoda had bought Haruhi some dango, which prompted Hikaru and Tamaki to try and buy out the entire stand for the girl. Kyouya and Kaoru had gone along to prevent their respective charges from being more stupid than usual, and Mei because... well, Harry didn't actually know her very well, but he suspected that she just liked to watch her friend be terrorized by the Hosts. Harry, Hani, and Takashi were not getting involved because they honestly didn't care to interfere in the love quadrangle, and since Kasanoda had been the one to buy the dango anyway, he was involved rather than interfering... Harry truly felt sorry for him for that. Then Harry had decided he wanted a soda, as did Hani and M-Takashi, but Hani also wanted to go to a stand that had something very much coated in strawberries. So Takashi had left the sodas to the shorter pair and gone to buy some of the desserts himself.

Hani took this opportunity to ask Harry the one of the questions that had gone unanswered before. Specifically, he asked, "What happened that got you hurt, Harry-chan?"

It was better than him asking why Harry was so famous. He'd told them something, about surviving the attack on his parents, but beyond that... well, it was only a matter of time before he was asked something he could not in good conscience avoid answering. And everyday they grew deeper into it, too.

"It was during one of the dancing lessons with Takashi, the last one actually," he shifted slightly from foot to foot. "We took a break and... well, he was exhausted, I guess. He even yawned; I dunno if that's abnormal, but it seemed that way to me. He ended up falling asleep on the couch in the room we were using as our dancing space, but he was sitting up... so I tried to figure out how to get him laying down so he wouldn't have a crick in his neck, you know? He ended up falling over – unbalanced himself – and he landed in my lap." He got to that part easily enough – he didn't even blush! "I ended up falling asleep after a while... but I guess Takashi didn't react well to waking up in my lap."

Which was an understatement, but in Harry's opinion, there was nothing wrong with the response. Takashi probably hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep, and suddenly he had awoken with his head in a lap, which was certainly a confusing prospect. Still, Harry's tongue had been a bit sore for the next day after the pain killer wore off. He recalled Takashi's own tongue brushing that scar and held back a shudder... he shouldn't be thinking about that stuff while he was talking with Hani though.

Besides, the younger boy was urging him to continue, so he did.

"When he woke up he hit my chin sitting up and I kind of bit half-way through the tip of my tongue," Harry scratched the back of his head in an abashed manner and still managed to contain his blush... though he was feeling a bit hot under the collar regardless. Maybe he should tone down the warming charm. "But Mo-Takashi got me to the hospital within a minute. I could tell he felt horribly guilty about it, though I tried to tell him it wasn't his fault... but well, he's Takashi." Far too noble – like Harry.

"Takashi doesn't yawn when he's sleepy though," Hani murmured, almost too quiet for Harry to catch. "What was he like before he fell asleep?"

"Well, he was exhausted, like I said," Harry furrowed his brow. What did that have to do with anything? "You know, dead-on-his-feet style tired. Like in November, the when you guys thought I'd been kidnapped. I was going to send him home, but he fell asleep and I didn't want to wake him up." They stepped up to the front of the queue and Harry ordered the sodas – strawberry for Hani, grape for himself, and root beer for Takashi – while Hani had a contemplative look on his face. Takashi was still in line for Hani's desserts so they waited near a fish-catching booth.

"He wasn't... acting funny? Not charming or like... like Tama-chan?" Hani asked after a moment.

"Er... well no," Harry took a sip of his soda and thought for a moment. "I only saw him like that once... over the summer I think? Sometime after Fred and George's first visit, I mean. I don't remember it very clearly mind, but he wasn't like that this time." It wasn't like Takashi was like that every time he was sleepy. He remembered quite distinctly seeing the dead-on-his-feet M-Takashi in November.

The confused look on Hani's face stuck until Takashi returned with the strawberry... whatever it was. It looked like a sort of funnel cake, but Harry wasn't sure, and he was fairly certain that they didn't usually have strawberries, but that's what it looked like. Surprisingly, he had something covered in cinnamon and sugar for Harry as well, which earned him a smile. Harry did rather like cinnamon... but the short conversation with Hani did leave him somewhat suspicious, especially since the boy was sending his cousin confused looks that only Harry caught.

They met up again with the rest after Haruhi had convinced her two most persistent admirers that she rally didn't need that much dango and he remained with them for another couple of hours (the dessert was terribly messy, and Harry could swear he could _feel_ Takashi's eyes on him as he licked the cinnamon from his fingers) before he really did have to go home again.

Therefore, he did not hear Hani when he turned to Takashi and asked him a question that all of the Hosts, Kasanoda, and Mei _did_ hear (for Hani would have asked in Harry's presence just to get the two to do _something_ about one another).

"You pretended to fall asleep, didn't you?"

Of course, it was all Greek to everyone else as they hadn't gotten the back story from Harry, but the fact that the tallest Host actually _blushed_ before letting out a small "Aa" certainly perked their interest.

**Author's Note: Just as hard as it is to change in writing how I refer to Takashi, it is for Harry to call him Takashi. Seriously, have you ever had anyone you know change their name? When I changed mine it took ages for my friends to get the hang of it. So, it will take a bit before the occasional Mori stops slipping in... which makes a nice cover for me forgetting, ne?**

(1) Saru, meaning monkey, is the Japanese equivalent of OWLs (so says me)... but don't ask for what it stands for, 'cause I dunno. Since Harry is sixteen and approaching the end of the school year, this would be the time when, were he a student in Japan to begin with, he would have taken the Saru exams anyway. As a note, he did take OWLs before going to Japan, but the only ones he got better than an A on (since he didn't have all the material, duh) were DADA, Charms, Herbology, and Potions (this was after he got his magical first-aid license, so he knew a lot about Potions and Herbology by then, plus he's always been good with Charms with some exceptions, and he knew a lot of DADA stuff from the TWT). He scraped an A in CoMC, and his worst grades were in History, Transfiguration (remember how much trouble he's had in that class through the years, especially fifth?), and Divination.

(2) To those who read the manga, yes, I know he wasn't there canonically. Nor was he at the New Year's Party or any other number of events I have placed him in. See the pattern? Deal with it. Mei, of course, is still at the temples with one of Kyouya's bodyguards... because I wanted Kasanoda to go in the car and not her. So nyah.


	26. Chapter 26

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64. **Slow start again, but necessary.**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 26

Harry finally invited all the Hosts to dinner at his mansion on the last night of the Winter Vacation. He hadn't had the opportunity since he had gone with them to the festivals to see any of the Hosts – though he did exchange text messages and email with them – due to his increased studies. He had been slacking off for November and December, and without a formal instructor for the courses he was to be tested on, Harry really did have to work hard to make sure he was up to par come the Saru exams in March.

Dinner was an easy affair at first. The twins were excited to finally get Sirius alone and made him change into his animagus form, something that surprised everyone but Harry, Ranka, and Haruhi since Sirius had apparently shown the latter two his Grim form after they had both been made aware of his status as a wizard. Kasanoda had been wary after that especially, since his family apparently held superstitions about large black dogs – the fact that he had a black dog now as a gift from his father was overlooked since it wouldn't be quite so bear-sized as a Grim. Hani actually ended up _riding_ the animagus around for a minute, which Harry made sure to take pictures of to send to Tonks; moving pictures, of course.

Everyone was introduced to Tipsy, Dinky, and Rory – Mori, Hani, and Ranka had already met them (as the only house elf left to the Blacks was one named Kreacher who could only be described as evil, Harry was "sharing" his staff with Sirius so that they wouldn't be bored merely picking up after Harry, who was terribly neat) – which went well, all things considered. Oddly, it was Kyouya who was most reticent at the idea of having little slaves, but they all relaxed a bit after Sirius explained the relationship between elves and humans and that they could have far worse masters than Harry.

He even had the opportunity to finally give the Hosts their Christmas gifts (1), since any other time he had seen them it had either not been as a group, at a function, or on accident. He gave Haruhi a laptop ("I know you only have a word processor at your house, so I thought you could do with something a bit more functional," he explained), Tamaki his own kotatsu (it was shrunk, but it would grow when Tamaki set it on the ground bottom down), Kyouya got a set of wit sharpening potions, Hani received a set of books about various magical creatures and one on Arithmancy since it was tied into calculus as well as some strawberry-flavored wizarding sweets ("But keep them away from your cousins; you don't need to explain them floating a few inches over the ground to your parents I would think!"), the twins received some Weasley's Wizard Wheezes (he made them swear to use them judiciously), and he gave Mori-_Takashi_ some books on magical history in Japan and an atlas, which garnered some odd looks.

"Twenty percent of the earth's surface is hidden from muggle eyes," Harry explained as he flipped the book open to the muggle section. "This part right here is where Atlantis ought to be, and the Bermuda triangle is actually seven times its size, concealing the entire continent. Never mind all the hidden Creature Reserves around the world and the like. This map even has unplottable places – that means they can't be mapped – though they're unlabelled, and they aren't in great detail, but they are there if you know where to look."

Needless to say, Takashi – whose favorite subjects were Japanese history and geography – found the gift to be very interesting and had a hard time not leafing through them right then and there if the glances he kept sending the volumes were any indication. Instead he sat quietly between Harry and Hani as everyone sat for some pre-dinner tea, though his eyes continually strayed to the books.

No, it was what happened _after_ the meal that Harry didn't like. Hani's silence was on the matter Harry had avoided at their last meeting was broken, which really he should have expected. Getting an answer around others was always an effective method.

And Harry _had_ told them to just ask if they wanted to know something... he was simply reluctant to tell them why he was famous.

"You don't..." Sirius murmured, brow furrowed. He turned his head suddenly to Harry. "You haven't _told_ them yet? Sweet Merlin, Harry! Everyone and their kneazle knows..." Sirius rolled his eyes and bit into a biscuit from a tray – the first cooking Harry had done since he moved into his home – as Harry grimaced. He hated to be in the spotlight – which rather sucked since he was more famous than Dumbledore at this point – and the eyes on him from his friends...

"It's not exactly something I like to think about, Sirius," he glanced at the animagus. "And I'm guessing you told Ranka. How about..." he trailed away, an idea occurring to him. He didn't want to say it, wasn't sure if he could bring himself to recount the tale really, and Sirius was better at it than he was anyway. "How about you tell them?" He sent pleading eyes at his godfather.

So the animagus did, albeit reluctantly. It was something that Harry ought to be telling his friends, ought to have told them as soon as they had the magical world revealed to them (less than two months ago... had it really been so recently?). "Right... I might as well start from the beginning, or else this won't make any sense what-so-ever... I guess it started almost thirty years ago, with the rise of the Dark Lord Voldemort."

"Voldemort? That's French," Tamaki blinked. "Flight from death... who would name their child that?"

"His parents didn't; Voldemort named himself that. And Sirius is wrong," Harry sighed. He hadn't told Sirius what little he knew of the origins of Voldemort, now that he thought of it. He could tell the beginning and let Sirius tell the rest. Harry suggested this and his dogfather agreed, going back to his cookie. "It began way back in the forties actually, during World War II. A half-blood orphan was attending Hogwarts at the time by the name of Riddle Tom, and he was growing into a dark wizard; unlike in the muggle world, the fight between Good and Evil, Light and Dark, is an actual physical struggle, and during the second world war it was at its height as the Dark Lord Grindelwald was out to bring wizarding dominion in being. Riddle had to become a dark wizard for two reasons: his safety as a half-blood in Slytherin, and because of his blood. So in 1942 he committed his first atrocity and opened the Chamber of Secrets as the Heir of Slytherin."

"I thought that happened when you were twelve," Hikaru pointed out, ruffling his dyed black locks.

"It did, but the first time was in '42," Harry responded. "Riddle released the basilisk into Hogwarts when he was only a fifth year – the same age as the Ouran High first years – and it ended with a girl dead and the wrong student expelled. A year later Riddle murdered his own father in cold blood, and a few years after that he just plain disappeared. Thirty years ago, he reappeared as Lord Voldemort."

Harry sent a pointed glance to Sirius to pick up the thread, but apparently the older man wanted _him_ to do it, and Harry realized the trap. Sirius wasn't going to tell them properly in the first place so that Harry would have to.

That bastard.

Harry coughed and continued, sending a hard glare across the coffee table to his godfather who merely picked up another biscuit. "Right. I don't know much about the first war against Voldemort – not that there was a second one really – but essentially he was targeting muggles, muggle born magicals, and 'blood traitors' – purebloods who were for muggle and muggleborn rights. His followers were the Death Eaters, the same terrorist organization that has been cropping up in the news again lately, and they did it all: murder, coercion, rape, threatening, torture – both physical and psychological – destruction of property... anything they could think of. It got so bad that people were afraid of calling Voldemort by his crafted name, preferring to call him 'You-Know-Who' and 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', which is a practice that was in use even a decade after he fell."

"But if he fell, why did you say _first_ war?" Hikaru grumbled. Everyone seemed to be taking the news of having an anti-muggle terrorist organization of that scale within Japanese borders quite well... or maybe they just didn't understand.

"I'm getting to that. I only found out about this bit just over a year ago myself, mind, but apparently a prophecy was made about Voldemort's death ten years into his reign of terror. I haven't actually heard it, but I was told the gist of it," by Voldemort himself while in captivity, but Harry wasn't going to mention that, "and it basically says that a child would be born to parents who had 'thrice defied' him 'as the seventh month dies' with 'the power he knows not'. There was also something about being marked by Voldemort and how neither the prophesied child nor Voldemort could 'live while the other survived'. (2)

"My parents and Sirius were full time members of an organization that fought Voldemort's forces directly on the front lines, at least until my grandparents died and Dad had to take over the Potter Company – discounting Potter-Evans, which my mum had only just gotten up and running and she was in charge of. My parents and one other couple called the Longbottoms had faced Voldemort three times and lived to tell the tale and both had children born at the end of July, only a couple of months after the prophecy was made. Both families went into hiding soon after the kids – me and a boy named Neville who was in Gryffindor with me at Hogwarts – were born, and chose secret keepers to hold the secret of their locations from Voldemort.

"My parents made the right choice at first; they wanted Sirius. But he was too obvious as my dad's best friend and brother in all but blood. So they picked another of my dad's friends, a man named Pettigrew Peter. Pettigrew sold us out and framed Sirius so he was tossed into prison for life and my parents were murdered."

It shouldn't be this easy to say something like... like this, Harry knew. He made a mental list of everything in the biscuits, but he knew there wasn't any calming draught in them, and he wasn't calm anyway. He was... well, Harry didn't actually know _what_ he was at that point, but it wasn't calm... and he wasn't panicked or sad or anything really. He was just sort of... empty? After all, what were his parents to him but a story? That outlook didn't help him any though.

"You said that you survived an attack that you shouldn't have, right? That you were made famous and given the name 'The Boy-Who-Lived,'" Haruhi put in as Harry's silence drew on. Harry winced imperceptibly at the moniker, but nodded.

"Yeah, the curse that killed my parents and innumerable others, the Killing Curse, is unblockable; the only way to survive it is to get out of the way," Harry continued after another moment. "It is one of three curses known as the Unforgivable Curses; Imperio, the Imperius Curse, which removes free will –" that got their attention, "Crucio, the Cruciatus Curse, which causes immeasurable pain –" and how well Harry knew _that_ one, "and Avada Kadavra, the Killing Curse, which kills instantly, painlessly even, and has only been survived by one person. Me."

Silence stretched on as the group assimilated this information and Harry decided that he might as well not half ass it again; he told them about Voldemort's downfall, a very small amount of his life with the Dursleys (simply that he it wasn't a loving environment, but he got by) – why did it feel so good to talk about them? Even when his shoulders started shaking (Gods, why was he shaking? And why... why were his eyes prickling like that?) and Takashi rested a hand on the shoulder opposite himself Harry felt an odd sort of warmth suffusing him – and all his adventures at Hogwarts. It was almost eight at night when his voice trailed off, recounting the flames at King's Cross. Suddenly, he couldn't continue.

Maybe the hollow sensation was why he hadn't wanted to tell them. He felt like he wasn't human as he told them everything, releasing the pent up emotions from Merlin only knew how long. He didn't actually cry, though he quaked and his eyes stung and when he mentioned Hermione his voice shook, but he didn't cry. Harry decided that he probably ought to look into finding a good shrink, just to make sure he didn't go bat-shit bonkers before he hit twenty.

In one deep breath, Harry calmed himself – or the physical response to whatever it was that was going on in his mind – and he reclined slightly into the couch (and Takashi's arm that had yet to be removed from the comforting position, not that Harry minded). And he told them about being kidnapped – seeing Snape get killed in an attempt to grab Harry (said teen suspected, after over a year of ruminating, that Snape might not have been trying to help him just then, since believing Dumbledore's word on anything wasn't the smartest of ideas) – and a very watered down version of the proceedings at Malfoy Manor.

"And then I took my second Killing Curse and got this," Harry pushed his fringe up to reveal his forehead fully to the room, showing the scar on his forehead – or, rather, two scars. He ran his finger along a thin white line that one had to be looking for to notice at all, "this is from the first curse, the scar I've always been known for, and this," he indicated the more notable line that connected with the first scar to form a jagged v-shape (3), "is from the second."

The silence echoed in the spacious living room before anyone dared speak, and that was Tamaki to ask him about the veela Fleur Delacour ("I'm sure I met a girl by that name when I was still in France..." he mentioned) and while Harry knew he wasn't free from questions that he didn't care to answer, he was content to talk about anything more frivolous than his life.

* * *

School started again the next day (luckily, either the reporters didn't know that he went to Ouran or they were smart enough to keep away from the school) and Harry found himself seeing Takashi – and Hani by extension – an inordinate amount of time that day. Which he didn't mind, though it was almost disturbing to turn around in the lunch line and find Takashi was directly behind him and he hadn't even noticed. And when he had been doing some muggle geography homework – it was difficult to remember to _not_ label where the dragon reserves of Hiroshima were or the hidden islands at the center of the Ring of Fire where fire-elemental creatures (such as the Phoenix and salamander) originated – in his little room off the club room he had suddenly found Takashi scratching something out where he'd messed it up and fixing it for him.

"Thanks M-Takashi," Harry murmured, trying to stem his blush. He hadn't even heard the silent senior enter (thus the "silent" part of that description) and it really was a stupid mistake that Takashi had fixed for him. Geography was only required of first years, just like he wouldn't have to study magical maps beyond his up-and-coming exams. Though, Harry wouldn't mind the subject so much if he didn't have to memorize _two_ sets of locations across the world, one significantly fuller than the other.

Takashi had simply smiled in response and left to attend his guests, as he was apparently on a short break between clients.

When Harry went outside to rendezvous with his driver and the car being driven by said driver, he found a note in his pocket and scanned it over quickly before smiling slightly. It was succinct, as expected of the one who wrote it, and while it would be detracting Harry from the time he had set aside for transfigurations practice (how he wished that he had gained his father's talent for that discipline) it wasn't an unwelcome distraction.

So he went home and changed into a something a bit more comfortable than his school uniform – though still quite nice – and set off again for the destination his note had told him to go to. The journey was nice; the driver he had ended up hiring was a fifty-some year old muggle – the father of a witch who was one of the best Spell Crafters in the world – who had worked for his fair share of celebrities, so he wasn't too fazed by working for _the_ Harry Potter, and he had a wicked sense of humor. All in all, Harry found that he had made a good pick, especially considering that most of the men he had met with a week before were rather in awe of him.

When they reached the address given, however, the street in front of the establishment was empty except for what looked to be an annoyed M-Takashi. Harry told his driver to park and got out from the vehicle, feeling rather confused – Takashi had, after all, mentioned that they were going to dinner, and this restaurant looked... well, the lights were out and the doorman was gone. It was closed.

"Health inspectors came in today," Takashi said simply, "and closed it an hour ago." Harry made an "o" shape with his mouth and took only two seconds of thought before he pulled Takashi over to his car since the older boy's seemed to be nowhere in the vicinity.

"Even if your plans haven't panned out, I can get us into a good place nearby," he explained, ushering Takashi into the car. "Hanazaka-san, could you take us to Sixth and Salamander in the wizarding section?" At the driver's nod, Harry scootched in beside Takashi (he had decided on a Bentley instead of a limo since it would usually be just Harry, though it was still charmed larger on the inside). When he felt a small push on his shoulder that forced him to lean on the older boy, he couldn't decide whether or not to be embarrassed.

"Sorry," Takashi muttered, but Harry shrugged in response, his shoulder rubbing against the older boy's arm.

"You should apologize less; if you apologize for things you shouldn't apologize for then people will wonder at the sincerity of them." Of course, this was a case of the cauldron calling the kettle black, as Harry knew he did the same – and more often since he was far more vocal than Takashi. "Besides, it's a good excuse to go to this Cajun place in the wizarding section of town. You'll like it – it's some weird food from the States; it can be pretty spicy, but it's good." It was the only such restaurant Harry had ever found, and he figured it was a style of food that wasn't overly popular even in America, but Sirius had taken the "family" there in December, and Harry was hooked, as was most of the wizarding world. Cajun was apparently becoming quite popular amongst magical people, and Harry could see why.

Conversation was kept to a minimum during the ride, though Hanazaka made a few comments that made Harry wonder if reinventing the color red was really as hard as the Weasleys made it out to be, because one of those comments brought him to the second new shade of crimson. The way to the wizarding section of Tokyo was actually a very simple one by car; Harry simply turned the radio to an am station called "Kitsune Classic" while Hanazaka drummed the eighth-notes to the song playing his steering wheel while turning onto fifth street –

And the way before them burst into color as they were actually dropped below street level – the motion was completely accounted for by the system, however, so the move from muggle to magical realms was felt as merely a tingle – to see wizarding Tokyo. It took up only a small sector of the city, but it was considering a wizarding Mecca of the muggle lands, discounting the hidden countries of Atlantis and the like. They turned onto Kintaro (4) avenue to get onto sixth, going slowly to allow Takashi to take in the sights.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Harry grinned. "This was the first place Sirius took me when we got settled into our old apartment before we started going sight-seeing." The car continued for three blocks before hitting Salamander Drive and pulling to a stop. Harry immediately got out of the car and got Takashi to follow him to the darkest door on the street.

All throughout the large room were lines of two-person tables connected at the sides with a candle or three on each to give an intimate air and yet not leave any two people all on their lonesome. The ceiling was done in the same style as a good many of the inner rooms of Harry's home as well as his bed room – that is, reflecting the night sky, which meant that Harry wouldn't suffer from his claustrophobia – and the décor was simple, yet aesthetically pleasing. The only light came from the kitchen, where bursts of fire could be seen on occasion, and small candles which sat on the center of each table. (5)

Harry not only liked the food they served, but the atmosphere; the darkness allowed for personal secrecy and the waiters were all quite used to those who wished to not be bothered by the populace, even if they didn't have any private tables. They were quite obliging about getting Harry and Takashi a corner table so that they would be somewhat less noticeable, and both perused the menu at their leisure, taking in the strange food names (there was something called "balls of fire" with cayenne and jabañeros listed in the spices that Harry was rather afraid of as Fred claimed that he'd lost his sight for a moment after eating just half of one).

The restaurant was constantly filling up, so it was inevitable that there would be someone who would end up sitting at the table adjoining to theirs. However, Harry had not expected anyone to recognize him from behind (he was sitting with his back to most of the restaurant), nor for them to pull him out of his seat, grab him by the shoulders, and kiss him. Of course, the kiss – or, rather, kisses, as she kissed him twice – was only on each cheek rather than anything that Harry would bodily protest to.

Takashi had quickly removed Harry from the woman's grasp, and in the low light it became quite obvious that the woman was at least part veela as she let off an unearthly glow. She was a veela whom Harry knew, at that. Fleur Delacour was already calmly seating herself in the seat next to Harry's and Viktor Krum was sitting in the one beside Takashi's as if he had been there the entire time. Harry blinked at them both for a second before he realized that, firstly, Takashi was still standing beside him in a protective manner and, second, that he was still standing up.

"Hello Fleur, Krum," Harry nodded at them and looked at Takashi with a nod to tell him it was okay. Not that he particularly liked being set upon and kissed on the cheek – he really didn't know Fleur well having only talked to her a few times when he was fourteen and traded maybe three letters, so he wasn't terribly keen on having his personal bubble invaded by the Frenchwoman – but he _did_ know the pair, and they wouldn't be revealing who he was to the establishment (hopefully).

Krum only nodded, but he wasn't exactly the vocal sort (unless one asked Hermione, but she was dead, so…). Like Takashi, it was expected that he would refrain from speaking unless he really wanted to. Fleur more than made up for it.

"You are very hard to find, Harry," she informed him as she sat primly in her seat. Fleur looked rather annoyed with him, though Harry couldn't fathom why. They barely knew each other and had exchanged all of three letters since the Triwizard Tournament had ended; one from Fleur asking him for "Help with 'er Eenglish" (she had also sent such letters to six other Hogwarts students as well as the Weasley family as a whole), another after his second defeat of Voldemort to make sure that he was okay as she "owed him a debt for saving Gabrielle" so he had _better_ be alright (much better than the regular fan mail, surely), and then a howler one week previous.

"A little red letter told me as much," Harry agreed. "Takashi, the lady beside me is Delacour Fleur from France, I think I mentioned her? As you can tell from her ability to glow in the dark –" he ducked a swat from the woman and continued, "she is a part-veela, the race from which the old legends of god-like elves came from. Beside you is Krum Viktor of Bulgaria, the best seeker in the world. Fleur, Krum, this is Morinozuka Takashi, my…"

"Boyfriend."

That one word from Takashi made Harry pause before sending a smile at his… boyfriend. It sounded nice, right even, and he was glad to find that he wouldn't actually have to ask the older boy what he considered them to be. It certainly made things more clean cut, which Harry was more than fine with; even though Takashi had turned about his Claddagh ring (how he even knew what it meant was beyond Harry), the matter really had been quite fuzzy in his own mind. Of course, Harry hadn't exactly agreed to be Takashi's _anything_, but he had also said the decision was up to the older of them when he confessed. And he did like the idea, if not the dangers associated. Though the fangirls (and fanboys) would be more than a little upset by the idea – Colin Creevey at the head of the pack more likely than not – Harry was sure that it couldn't be a _bad_ thing. Takashi was already theorized as being his significant other; the mere theory made him a target.

Harry wondered when he'd become so accepting of putting his friends in danger – just three weeks ago he'd been more concerned with Death Eaters than things like _love_ – but dismissed it. If he went in depth on such things… well, he had better things to do than angst at the moment. Maybe when he was home alone without anyone closer to him than Tipsy or Dinky trying to pull him out of the angst-session (Rory, of course, cared more for doing… whatever it was that he did than with anything Elf-y and would not pay attention to Harry's moods).

Fleur, upon hearing Takashi's continuation of Harry's introductions, seemed quite pleased and congratulated the boy she had once competed furiously against for "finding love and all the wonders thereof" (her words). A small perk of the brow was all that Harry received from Krum.

They settled in for the meal, most of the talking being done by Fleur, though Harry managed to interject politely where he could. The conversation was strained a bit of course, given that there were two people who weren't much on speaking, and Harry usually had no clue what Fleur was talking about (something about Gabrielle and a boy from Beauxbatons and he was _sure_ she mentioned Bill Weasley once with a wistful tone, but considering the pair couldn't have met more than twice…), but things remained light enough. At one point, the conversation turned to Quidditch and the up-coming match between Bulgaria and Japan that had been postponed until the coming weekend (Harry even had tickets).

"I would like to fly against you sometime, Potter," Krum informed the youngest of the quartet as he contemplated his wine. Harry agreed, looking forward to the opportunity; he hadn't actually played against anyone (except Charlie) in almost three years and all of his flying since he quit Hogwarts had been just-for-fun. The idea of actually playing seeker – and against Viktor Krum of all people! – was certainly a good one.

For some reason, Takashi narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, though Harry noticed. He honestly couldn't fathom why.

Dinner came and went, only twice having their dinners interrupted by requests from the other patrons to ask Harry and Krum for autographs. The waiters returning only a minute after the leftovers were taken away bearing foil sculptures of animals with their food contained within; as Tamaki would call it, the restaurant was a "commoner establishment", if an elegant one, but the food was good and the sculptures as well. Fleur naturally got the best sculpture, a swan, while Harry got a bunny, Krum a sparrow, and Takashi received a tanuki. Harry had yet to see one of the actual creatures and wondered if he would ever meet Takashi's pet tanuki, Pome-chan, but pressed the thought out of his mind as desserts arrived. To any outsider, the group would appear to be one that had met on purpose rather than by coincidence.

The mere thought of that word "coincidence" was not one Harry much relished however. Coincidences were for mystery novels; in reality it was some form of intelligent design whether it be by some God, the Powers That Be, the Fates, magic itself, or any outside force really.

And how well he came to realize that lack of coincidences as a low boom sounded in the distance, easily overcoming the din of those dining. The ceiling glowed a dark orange as well as it reflected whatever was going on outside. There was a split second of silence before the screams could be heard from out on the street. With their bills already paid – Harry had picked his and Takashi's up while the aforementioned teen was trying to figure out what to do with a flan that was actively endeavoring to devour his spoon – there was no time wasted by the quartet to find their way to the door and see exactly what had happened.

The reflection of the sky over the street was shining a vivid orange beneath the dark gray that cloud-cover brought. Sirens could already be heard through the concrete, and people on the below-ground streets were huddled together, whispering. Harry called Hanazaka and attempted to bid goodbye to Fleur and Krum in hopes of checking out what was going on, but they piled in the car behind him and Takashi (it wasn't like they were bothering with being chauffeured around since they didn't have to blend with the muggle world).

The drive was quiet as they headed to where the flames seemed to lick the sky in muggle Tokyo. It was what appeared to be a regular shopping mall – in fact, Harry _knew_ it was a regular shopping mall – and yet the Dark Mark was hanging above it as if the muggles couldn't see it and it stood out starkly against the glaring yellow and orange of the fire. Another explosion rocked the city from some two miles away, and another just one mile in the opposite direction within a minute of the magicals (plus Takashi) arriving on the scene.

After five minutes passed, another explosion came from further south, and another minute after that a final three sounded in unison. The sky was glowing a violent red by that point and Harry had no doubt that all the fire engines in the city were on their way to each scene. When ten minutes passed without further damage being done, Harry decided that whatever was being done was over unless there was dueling being done somewhere, though where that might be he couldn't guess. He had Hanazaka drive Fleur and Krum to their hotel – it never occurred to him to ask why they were staying at the same hotel when they weren't dating – and then had Takashi direct them to the Morinozuka residence so that he too could be dropped off before heading home.

When he did get home, Harry barricaded himself in his study to await Sirius' arrival, which would doubtlessly come soon.

He wasn't disappointed either.

"Seven department stores and shopping malls were hit," Sirius stated calmly as soon as he stepped into the small office where Harry did his school work. It was amazing what being sober could do to change the animagus' composure when delivering such news; he wasn't breaking down like he had for the Halloween attacks, nor was he anything less than dead serious. "All of them were closed for the night, no deaths, and the only injuries were the night janitors at three of them, all of whom were found out behind the dumpsters, stunned and with nothing worse than bumps on their heads and a memory charm. Bellatrix was seen at two of the sites and Lucius Malfoy was at four of them from what I could get. It's all going to be in the paper tomorrow, so I don't have anything that isn't going to be common knowledge come morning, but..."

"Weren't the attacks on Halloween on department stores too?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. Almost three months of silence and all that was attacked were some regular muggle department stores. It hardly seemed in keeping with the usual Death Eater tactics, especially considering the lack of death, torture, etc... and yet it had happened and there was no knowing why.

"Yeah," Sirius slumped into a chintz armchair next to Harry and called for Dinky to bring him a bottle of firewhiskey and a shot glass. Harry sent him an annoyed look – the man drank far too much and now he was going to get smashed and blubbery – but didn't say anything. It was all too... abnormal.

Harry's definition of terrorism was "a group or person acting outside of a valid government using violence to create terror for a purpose of a political, ideological, or religious nature," and that definition certainly fit the Death Eaters to a "T"... and yet they were suddenly attacking in what seemed to be a manner of creating terror for terror's sake. They weren't attacking muggles, merely their establishments, nor were they spreading any anti-muggleborn doctrine. It was completely illogical.

_But since when has the wizarding world _been _logical_? He thought to himself with a sigh.

All thoughts of Takashi were pressed out of his head as he thought of this. He had more important things to think about, more important things to do, and thinking of his apparent boyfriend – it might be a good idea to tell Sirius of the development so he would stop hounding Harry actually, but there was also the chance of the man snooping more then and he really ought to be getting his thoughts back on track – were not conducive to such things.

Security, after all, was key.

"Hey, Sirius," Harry said, "could you teach me how to duel?"

**Author's Note: Okay, so... this chapter started with some emotional bit for dearest Harry and yet another information dump on the Hosts – one that has been about nine chapters in coming. Less than two months in story, but a lot has happened in those two months and as far as Harry can see, the threat to their safety is escalating. But we got some plot furthering done **_**and**_** Mori/Harry cuteness. So... win.**

**Harry did not know how to duel before. He has not been through the DA or any battle other than the one with Voldemort at the end of the TWT, therefore he is severely lacking. So he's asking Sirius to help him; knowing the spells and how to use them will only get him so far after all! Without experience and practical application he would be toast – at least that's his thought pattern (and the truth, but whatever).**

**You know what you should do? You should go to my profile and look at my new icon. It's awesome. Seriously. (I mean it; I made it on Sunday... and I love it!!! Although now I think about it, I probably should have left it black-and-white...) Anyway, hope you all have a good next few days before I update (busy weekend again, so I might not update until next weekend, dunno yet). If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask :)**

(1) Whether they celebrate it or not is irrelevant. Keep in mind that Christianity is distinctly anti-magic, and yet Christmas is a Hogwarts Holiday rather than Winter Solstice as it ought to be (I pretend that it is so it makes sense). I, for example, am very much not Christian and I still celebrate Xmas with my family.

(2) Portions contained in apostrophes are direct quotes from the prophecy (not that everyone doesn't know it by heart by now) from Harry Potter, Book 5.

(3) This is just me noting that Harry didn't get away from of the second killing curse unscathed. One is more distinct than the other because one has faded after 15 years; the other is hardly more than a year old. Besides, this could be worse! I could have made Harry a total super!Harry with animagus and elemental and all sorts of abilities and heir of the Founders etc etc. I did none of it; yes, he's smarter than canon and he has some extra scars and he's more logical, but that really is it. His extra haplessness makes up for that. So there.

(4) A piece of Japanese folklore, the tale of a small boy of immense strength and great kindness. I have no idea how street names in Japan are done, so... mreh. I just made something up XP

(5) This restaurant is actually based off of one near where I live that is absolutely fantastic. I don't like Cajun food, but this place… it's quite WOW. And they have a painting of an alligator on the wall, which is cool :3 (The "balls of fire" are from another restaurant I like, and Fred's testimony is actually what my sister told me - I can't stand spicy food.)


	27. Chapter 27

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64.** A bit shorter than usual, but... meh. Not too far below average.**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 27

If one wants to know the most important information regarding the stock market, Ouran High School was a good place to ask someone, likewise if they are curious as to the veracity of the society section or what is really behind the celebrity gossip. For the latest on fashion anyone could wander down to the class 1-A room to ask the Hitachiin brothers and find out about the most important people and parties in 2-A from Ootori Kyouya or his best friend Suou Tamaki. The sports section was well known to any member of the sports clubs, and the newest businesses were often being talked about by the students of 1-C and 3-D.

However, if anyone was to mention the destruction of property on the night of January 11, 2007, there would be only three people with any clue as to what was being talked about. Many would consider Ouran to be a well informed school in general, but when it came to local events and current events, they were horridly undereducated.

The first student who knew what had happened was Watanabe Sakura of class 3-B, whose grandfather owned one of the affected establishments. Not that she knew much, as she was more concerned with making sure that she had a strawberry cake to give to her favorite Host, Haninozuka Mitsukuni.

The second student was from 3-A, Morinozuka Takashi, the Wild type Host and tallest person at Ouran High. He had made sure to read the front of the paper that morning after going through his kata, and while he didn't know too much he knew that there had to be _someone_ who did. Before he might have been just as oblivious as any other student of Ouran, but now he had a real interest in being knowledgeable on what was going on with such things. Most of that had to do with a certain first year student and the very real danger that the Death Eater Organization now presented to him, his family, and the other Hosts. There was, after all, no denying Harry's position in the world.

As it just so happens, Harry Potter of class 1-A was the third of the three students who would be in-the-know, partly because anything to do with the Death Eaters was highly important to him, and their vexing attacks on empty muggle department stores was something that he was quite interested in. After reading both the muggle and magical papers, he had visited all of the attack sites that morning and managed to get safely inside the security wards that the auror force had set up and tried to find out what he could, even going so far as to trade a few autographs to get some information, though none of it helped him.

While in his classes throughout the day, he was running through all the Death Eater activity he knew of. They had escaped Azkaban through means unknown a mere three days before Harry turned 16 (the Ministry was trying to pin the escape on Sirius, but considering he had been very much in Japan at the time, just about the entire world knew they were barking up the wrong tree on the one), and a few weeks later was the first sighting in Tokyo, one that Harry had reported; his sighting of Lucius Malfoy walking the streets as if he owned them. There had been reported sightings of Malfoy, the Lestranges, Nott, MacNair, Crabbe, Goyle, the Carrows, and ten other known Death Eaters – those who had been convicted, were in hiding beforehand, and those awaiting trial at the time of the breakout – before Harry had seen Malfoy again at the muggle festival.

Then there were the attacks on department stores on Halloween and the attacks the night previous. They had vanished altogether in between the two attacks, and now there were no records of anything going on otherwise but Harry's (very) brief encounter with Draco Malfoy, who had undoubtedly returned to Hogwarts... if he was still attending. Harry had no clue and wasn't keen on sending Hedwig all the way to England to ask Headmistress McGonagall about it.

Either way, there had hardly been any Death Eater activity since their arrival in Japan. No major sightings, no captures, no combat, only very minor injuries, and no death. It wasn't Death Eater style. There had been an increase in abductions and missing persons reports, but not enough to be noteworthy.

And now that there had been the attacks the night before, Harry was starting to panic a bit. It was not supposed to be like this, was it? If the Death Eaters had some goal in Japan, it was to get him and to cause chaos, kill muggleborns and the like, wasn't it? And yet all that had happened so far in his own experience was Harry punching the ferret and a small threat from the aforementioned ferret's father.

With a sigh, Harry collected his things, pushing them all into his bag unceremoniously. He hadn't absorbed a word of that History lecture which would likely come to bite him in the ass at a later date, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His movements were slow and he only barely remembered to reply when Kaoru, Hikaru, and Haruhi said they would see him in the lunch room. No, he was too confused at the moment to really think of anything _but_ the Death Eater crisis.

_And the Americans think their War on Terror is going to help anything?_ He thought with an angry snort. _Maybe just their oil prices.(1)_

The room was empty he realized and Harry let out another exasperated sigh. He needed to get out of this endless ring of thought – it would get him nowhere, that much was certain. With his bag slung over his shoulder, Harry decided it was probably time to go wait in line to get his lunch. Not that he really felt hungry. He hadn't been that morning either and had forgone breakfast (much to Tipsy's displeasure). Harry knew quite well how unhealthy it was – he owned a medical company after all – but he found the idea of eating made him queasy and it just made him think of Death Eaters more and more.

"Harry," the low rumble that could belong to only one person caused Harry to jump as he realized he'd stopped only a few steps from his seat in thought. Takashi was leaning against the door frame, eyes trained on his (Harry hesitated to think the word) boyfriend.

"Hey Takashi," Harry greeted, trying to force his mind off of that particular subject. He needed to think about the Death Eater situation. He needed to figure out what they were up to. As arrogant as it sounded, the efforts of the Dark Lord (now deceased) and his followers tended to revolve around Harry, as could be attested by the year-end events of each of his years at Hogwarts (except his third as that one was more Sirius-related than anything). "How have you been today?"

The tall boy shrugged, which drew Harry's attention to his shoulders. With the shoulder pads they looked ridiculously wide now that Harry thought of it, though when he was bereft of the uniform blazer they were... he stopped the train of thought once again. "You?"

"Busy. I've been thinking about the attacks," Harry admitted easily. While Takashi had been more vocal in the past month or so, he was still sparing in his conversation, though Harry found his comprehension of Takashi-language increasing as he spent more time with the senior. "The official statement is that the Death Eaters were simply letting out a bit of excess aggression, but... well, I've told you plenty about them, haven't I? Whatever their purpose is for attacking shops – regular muggle shops of all things – is part of something bigger." But _what_?

"Aa," Takashi nodded, obviously understanding Harry's conundrum at least a bit. The first year flickered a small smile into place and continued his passage through the room to the other side where Takashi waited. "Shall we?" He actually extended his hand to Harry, causing his cheeks to heat up a bit while he allowed himself to be tugged out of the classroom. Hani was too doors down chatting up some of his fangirls from 1-C (or as close to chatting up as Hani got).

"Bye Hana-chan, Sawa-chan!" Hani called as Takashi and Harry approached (the former having been quite devious, Harry realized, in grabbing Harry's wrist and making it seem that he was merely pulling Harry along, though their fingers brushed on occasion). "Hi Harry-chan! Takashi and I wanted to come get you for lunch. The D-lunch today has that devil-cake you made for me in April and..." he continued on, grabbing Takashi's hand in his own to pull the older boy along behind him. The extra resistance seemed to make him turn back and notice that Takashi was linked to Harry's wrist. All that Harry caught was the large grin the blond senior wore before he found himself being tugged bodily in a chain of people off to the café.

Over lunch, Harry quietly divulged what little he knew of the attacks (something none of the Hosts but Takashi even seemed to know had taken place, though if Kyouya was honestly ignorant he didn't show it). He had placed them in danger and at this point, when they knew so much about him already, he didn't have the right to keep them in the dark. That would be horridly... Dumbledoric, for lack of a better word (or any actually existing). While it was one thing to hide his personal history, this was a completely other threat.

"Is there going to be a meeting with the Black Magic Club today?" Kyouya asked as they neared the end of lunch, all more or less simply involved in conversation outside of anything to do with the one previous (Haruhi in particular was talking with Kasanoda about something while Tamaki and Hikaru glared at the red-head).

"Yeah, we're deciding on what to do for the Year End Carnival I think," Harry replied. Traditionally, Ouran had two major events over the course of the year; the Festival where students showed off their leadership abilities and entertained the parents happened a bit before midyear, and the Carnival where it was more a series of performances than anything else. Each club had a performance or something that they did it their block of time to show off to the parents and the rest of the school. The drama club would do a short play, the art clubs would have a gallery walk or perhaps an auction of student works, and so on and so forth. Harry found it superfluous, but it wasn't set until two weeks before finals – the third day after he would finish his magical exams – so he wasn't too worried about it at least.

"I don't suppose you could skip today then," Kyouya actually almost _sighed_ (or so it seemed to Harry), but instead pushed his glasses up his nose a bit further. "It can wait until after things are wrapped up for the day. Come by the music room after you are finished." It was not a request.

Harry agreed and stood up to head back to class. Takashi was standing just as he was and Harry sent him a surprised look just the same as Hani did; Takashi never got up from the table until Hani had said it was time to be off. The elder of the surprised pair snapped out of it first and bid the other Hosts goodbye while hopping out of his chair to walk side-by-side with his cousin. Harry hadn't even realized they were moving until he felt a tug on his wrist as Takashi continued tugging him along in the same manner as before. It undoubtedly looked strange.

After being escorted back to his classroom (the very idea was strange to him), the rest of the day floated by much as the first half did. Harry didn't think of much beyond the Death Eaters during any of his lessons and brooded all the way to the North building basement where he met with the Black Magic Club. Nekozawa called them to order quickly and it was decided that they would do the fortune-telling thing for their time during the Carnival, as well as some shows of basic magic – while to the untrained eye it would be mere sleight of hand – the tricks themselves were fairly impressive regardless. Naturally, Harry and Nekozawa himself were going to be the main attraction.

The meeting ended with Nekozawa plotting over something with his friends and Harry found a walking companion in Kanazuki who wanted to go to the Host Club to hang about with Hani (not her words). Not that they talked or anything; he was still fairly certain that Kanazuki disliked him for some unknown reason. But it was better than going all the way to the other end of campus on his own at any rate.

They arrived roughly twenty minutes to closing and Harry simply waved to the Hosts who were looking at the door when it opened before heading off to his study room. He couldn't do much in twenty minutes, but he had some math work to finish up and he would rather not have to do it at home since his calculator didn't agree with the ambient magicks of the house.

Midway through his second-to-last problem, Kyouya called him out, stating that Club hours were over. Harry sighed, but closed the book. He could do Quadratics easily enough without the calculator at home; Merlin only knew how many times he had had to do it for the assignment, never mind how often Ito-sensei repeated it in class! With the text returned to his bag, Harry left the solitude of the side room and found Kyouya was sitting on one of the couches tapping away at his laptop, likely inputting the data for the day, while the rest of the club were cleaning up.

Harry simply sat in the chair across the table from Kyouya. Normally he might have said something along the lines of "You wanted to speak to me?" Now, however, he suspected that Takashi's general silence was contagious or something as he didn't feel at all inclined to do so.

"Harry-kun," Kyouya acknowledged. He set his laptop on the table nonchalantly and pulled his bag into his lap in its stead. A sheaf of paper was removed and passed over the polished wood with little to-do.

"What are these?" Inquired the Boy-Who-Lived. Whatever it was had a signature-line at the bottom, and there was no way he was going to sign anything before he had heard what it was – first in Kyouya's own words and then after he had read it himself. That would just be stupid, which was something Harry liked to think he wasn't. Not usually anyway.

The top read "Permission for Image Use" whatever that meant. Besides, Harry Potter meant next to nothing to Japanese muggles, so it obviously wasn't that Kyouya was intending to use Harry for an Ootori commercial or something. It would have been Ootori Yoshio to ask that more than likely anyway simply because he was the company head and anything done in the name of the Ootori Group by Kyouya would not be considered legal.

"I am going to be making prints of the photographs taken at the New Year's Party for the next collection of Host Club Photo Albums." For once, the sunlight was not obscuring his eyes. "To print any of the photographs containing you, I need your permission as you are not a member of the club and you have not already signed the appropriate documents. Sirius is also required to sign them because you are still a minor."

That was actually... fairly innocent given who Kyouya was. And the original purpose of Harry dancing with any of the male Hosts was for the Album Collections... though he'd figured at the time that only the pictures of Haruhi dancing with the other Hosts would be published. Still, Harry nodded and started reading through the documents in question to make sure that there was nothing out of place to snare him. Not that he was particularly good at that sort of thing – the Company had lawyers for that – but he didn't find anything that seemed terribly sinister.

"I'll get them back to you tomorrow," Harry stated finally. Sirius would sign it as soon as Harry asked anyway, but he wasn't going to ask the man to drop by the school. They were going to meet up for dinner to discuss the attacks, so it was hardly going to be difficult to get it take care of anyway. Speaking of... "I've got to get going; my driver is due in a few minutes."

Kyouya barely even acknowledged him, but Harry wasn't expecting much. He slipped the pages between two texts – with exams approaching he had far more homework than normal, but he thanked Merlin for feather-light charms – and stood up to head outside. He jumped when he turned to find Takashi at his side with Hani sitting on his shoulders. The whole appearing-out-of-nowhere thing was getting kind of creepy.

"Are you leaving now too, Harry-chan?" The latter asked when Harry had straightened out again. "Do you wanna walk out with Takashi and I? You got a car over the break, didn't you?"

"Yeah, sure," Harry answered. "Hanazaka-san started yesterday and I told him to pick me up right about..." he glanced at the wall clock, "right about now it looks like." He was blathering a bit, sure, but the fact that Takashi had snuck up on him _again_ had freaked him out for a second. Maybe he would mention that.

He fell into step beside the seniors while Hani talked about whatever. Sometimes Takashi would agree with something, nodding his head (but not enough to shake off the one who was sitting on his shoulders) or Harry would interject a comment here and there. The young wizard was a bit more concerned with what was going on outside the windows, however, and drew the Hosts' attention to it.

"Wasn't it _winter_ about five minutes ago?" he murmured, eyeing the cherry trees that were suddenly in bloom. It had been snowing very lightly – not enough to stick – the entire time that he had been in the Club room (only about half an hour), and considering one of the school's Law-of-Nature defying cherry trees was outside the window to his study area he really ought to have noticed if the world had suddenly decided to be spring. Yet as they reached the first floor he could see quite plainly that it was not winter any longer.

And here he thought that whatever force caused the seasons to be so insane at the school might actually _respect_ Winter, but no. Spring was two months early.

Takashi seemed completely nonplussed by the phenomena, and Hani went on to explain. Apparently the weather on this part of Tokyo was always erratic, and without any real reason so far as had been found. There was a seven year cycle that the strange pattens followed and the Ouran schedule was built around that. The school had been built where it was _because_ of the strange seasons that gave them at the very least four springs per year. The most, which would be coming in two years time, was thirteen springs.

Harry sent his friends a pitiable look, but said nothing beyond disparaging the ignorance of Nature. Maybe the school was built on a ley-line? Not that they usually did strange things to the weather, but it was a more viable excuse than any other he knew of. He knew the Node in Atlantis made things constantly summer, and that weather witches in the States had set up an area that cycled quickly through seasons for faster food growth... Harry wasn't the most knowledgeable guy out there, and he would be the first to admit it, but he did know his fair share.

"Right... well, my ride is here," Harry sighed, still exasperated as his feet crunched on the remains on the once-falling snow that now glittered prettily under the sunshine (it was after six o'clock in January damn it! It was supposed to be dark already!) while a bunch of cheery blossoms hung only an inch over his head. "Bye Takashi, Hani-senpai. See you tomorrow." Harry waved to them both, earning the same treatment (albeit in a far more energetic manner) from Hani and – surprisingly – a wave from Takashi as well.

Or maybe not so surprisingly, though Harry was completely unused to such things. Maybe he would stop being surprised about Takashi showing his more open side at a later date, but for now he had to get to his car. The fact that he could see a small pack of reporters being "inconspicuous" just outside the gate made him want to just get away. He would have to do something to get rid of them eventually.

An idea sparked just then and he couldn't hold back a smirk as he slid into the backseat of the car. If that idea worked he might be able to get some more information on what was going on with the Death Eater situation.

He had a letter to write when he got home.

* * *

Nothing noteworthy happened the next few days, as no progress was made on the Death Eater front and Harry had all of one minute alone with Takashi (though it was a very nice minute, it was inadvertently interrupted by Tamaki). He did, however, invite everyone to Krum's Quidditch match with Japan. For some reason, Takashi didn't seem to happy about it, and Harry had a feeling it wasn't because the shorter of them was going to be rooting against Japan. As to what the reason might actually be, however, Harry was clueless.

On Friday night he took them out to the pre-game festivities – after having everyone switch out some yen for galleons that is – and when they returned on Saturday morning it was with a fair bit of excitement that they made their way to their box. It wasn't the Top Box, but Harry decided he preferred the slightly lower position. He also wasn't too keen on being in the same box as Ministry officials again, even if they would be only the Bulgarian and Japanese officials. After the game he found out that Fudge had been up there as well and asking after him.

Either way, he was glad he had bought the tickets before Krum offered to get him seated in the Top. He also wasn't entirely sure how the aforementioned Ministers would take to being in the same box as a small group of muggles, even if they _were_ friends of _the_ Harry Potter. While Japan seemed to take the whole muggle-magic integration thing pretty well, Bulgaria most certainly did not. And he really did not want to deal with Fudge, especially when one took into consideration that Sirius and Ranka were somewhere in one of the boxes as well and that Fudge had been demanding that the Japanese authorities turn over said animagus to British custody ever since he had arrived.

After two and a half hours, Krum went into a complete nose-dive. His opponent was apparently smarter than the Irish seeker had been at the World Cup as well, and hadn't fallen for any of the attempts at a Wronski Feint throughout the game. Sadly, he'd fancied himself _too _smart as Krum came up with the snitch not ten seconds after going into that dive, ending the game with Bulgaria 120 points ahead and going on to the next round of the year-long Tournament before the slowly approaching World Cup.

Not one of the Hosts had looked away from the game for even a moment, which was saying something since he was fairly certain that most of them weren't usually terribly interested in team sports.

Fleur found them as they were heading out. "Harry! It is good to see you again." Once again he was ambushed by the two kisses on the cheek ritual which left him blushing slightly. It didn't help that (most) every male eye was riveted on the part-veela, the Hosts' included. "These must be your friends, non? It is nice to see you again as well Takashi." When the blonde swooped upon Takashi and dragged his head down to kiss _his_ cheeks as well, Harry almost choked. Did she just -? To Takashi? Something cold and vicious squirmed in Harry's gut, but he fought it down.

"Everyone, this is Delacour Fleur..." and on the introductions went. He'd introduced the Hosts to his... well, to wizarding folk he knew often enough. He didn't exactly classify Fleur and Krum as being in the "friend" category. Fleur's eyes seemed to catch on Tamaki.

"You look familiar," she observed. "Do you know Anne-Sophie Grantainne? Only, she has many pictures on her mantle of a boy who looks much like you." The knowledge that Fleur – who was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl Tamaki had ever met – actually knew the Host King's mother immediately got him to warm up to her even more than he might have as his romantic attentions were being forcefully drawn away from Haruhi.

Actually, the Hosts all had a surprising amount of self-control around the part-veela; most of the other men in the area were trying to show off while she wasn't even paying them any mind. Maybe the Allure didn't work on muggles? Or it could be that the boys were just too utterly used to being around beautiful women and charming the bejeezus out of them. It didn't work very well on Harry either, mind (though why, he would never know).

Fleur led them to the Bulgarian Team's area to see Krum, and Harry was quick to congratulate him on the catch. He'd seen Krum's strategy for what it was; he was known for his use of Wronski Feints, and since the last World Cup he had been in – only one since he had to miss the Cup after for the Triwizard Tournament and the one after _that_ they lost to Brazil in one of the preliminary matches – many seekers were wary of tracking him too closely. Krum had used this to his advantage to seem like a one-trick pony and trick his opponent into not following whenever he started diving. As it just so happened, the technique worked like a Wingardium Leviosa - simply and without a hitch.

Of course, it was cool to meet the rest of the team (to his embarrassment Harry was actually a tiny bit star struck at meeting famous athletes like them), but Harry was a seeker and as such he had been paying most of his attention to the search for the snitch. The team seemed rather interested in meeting him as well, but Harry took it in stride, politely refusing when he was offered a signed Quaffle. Though he did agree to the picture with the team after the Hosts showed interest in having moving pictures of their day in the Wizarding World.

A bit further into the celebrations, Harry managed to ask Krum and Fleur if they knew anything about the Death Eater attacks, but they did not and he had to leave soon after. Now if only he knew why Takashi kept on giving Krum those nasty looks...

* * *

"Shall we get started, Harry? Is it alright of I call you Harry?" On Sunday, after his shift at the Hospital for the week (not that he was teaching anymore as the next group of doctors wasn't due for three months, but he was getting to learn about interesting diseases that he could look into cures for), Harry met with one Rita Skeeter at a high class restaurant in the Wizarding District for an exclusive interview. The public would not come bother them, he could ask for all the secrecy wards that he wanted, and best of all, Rita wouldn't print anything that he didn't want printed. Ah, the joys of blackmail. Of course, this was only the second time that he was using her form to his advantage, the first being when he had her write the article about Dumbledore, Ron, and Ginny over a year ago.

"Only if you keep to our deal," Harry allowed, taking a sip of sparkling cider from his champagne flute. Why they put the cider in it though... he put his mind back on task. He had some important things to get to with this "private interview" after all. "Auto-Quotes instead of Quick-Quotes, and I get to check it over before you send it to the press, got it?"

"Of course Harry, now let's get started..." Rita wasn't the least bit deterred and began rattling off questions as her baby blue Auto-Quotes quill jotted down the entire interview word-for-word.

Why did he leave England? To get some piece and quiet and to keep his godfather out of Fudge's grasp.

Why, of all places, did he pick Japan? It was far away with an agreeable climate, a rich culture, and the schools were more than good enough.

What school was he attending? (This had already been scoped out by other reporters, so Harry had no qualms answering as it was by then common knowledge) Ouran High School, but he would rather if magical people didn't go there because he really needed to focus on exams for the next couple of months. (Such a reply would hopefully stop people from taking the admission as an invitation to bother him and should paint him as a serious student.)

Who are the boys that he has been seen with? And the young lady? Friends from school.

How long is he planning to stay in Japan? There is no plan. Not to say that there wasn't, but Harry is scoping out his options. The Company, however, has priority, especially Potter-Evans Medical.

Each question came at him and Harry answered easily. Skeeter would make a mint off of the article, he knew, since it would probably make front page in any paper she sold it to; he requested that one Japanese paper be included in that so that everyone would get the word about faster that he did _not_ want to be disturbed, thank you very much. The more personal questions he had the option to opt out of, luckily, but he did answer a few to keep his _adoring_ public from going rabid. What did it matter to him if they knew he liked healing or that his favorite scent was metal and wood polish? Some of them were completely inane, and others far too personal (he only answered the boxers vs briefs question because he knew that, if he didn't, people might think he went commando).

If nothing else, it would help fuel the internet forums that were dedicated to him. As it was, Harry was only in any rush to get the fans off his back so that he could focus on the Death Eater issue and exams. Both were more important than bothering with fan surveys or having to press his way through a crowd to get where he was going day in and day out.

"Thank you Harry, I think I have enough for quite the juicy article series," Rita grinned in what could only be described as a predatory manner. Harry suspected there would be at least four articles generated by this interview, but he would look over each one to make sure his image wasn't dashed. He'd already had to deal with the world around him turning on him twice; he didn't need for that to happen again.

"Not at all Ms. Skeeter," Harry pretended to be nonchalant, they both knew it and he didn't bother hiding it that he was pretending... which begged the question of why he bothered to pretend in the first place. "You can owl the articles to me; to get through you just have to add the word 'Prongs' as the address." That had been Sirius' idea; the codeword would keep his address and floo address secret but still allow an owl through if it had the appropriate code phrase on it. The fact that the phrase was set to change each month was just an added fail-safe.

"Right. Remember to see about getting me an interview with Lord Black, too. Ta' Harry!" Rita left with a sashay to her hips that really shouldn't be used by an anyone over forty, even if wizards _did_ age slowly and live ridiculously long lives. It just wasn't right.

Harry returned home and collapsed in bed immediately. Now he just had to spend the rest of his life agonizing over attempts on his life.

No problem.

**Author's Note: Not much to say... but if I weren't sick you wouldn't have gotten this until the weekend. However I would prefer it if you did not praise the pathogens; now I have two days worth of school work to do on top of what I get the rest of the week. And yes, things are FINALLY picking up. Hallelujah.**

(1) I know, I know, I shouldn't make political statements... but whatever. Here Harry is dealing with a terrorist organization while the Americans are off fighting a war thousands of miles away against essentially the same sort of threat, supposedly. It's hardly something to wonder at that such a parallel would be drawn, no? You can just take this as him being spiteful.


	28. Chapter 28

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 28

The same day that the interview was published – and without unnecessary embellishments, thank Merlin – Harry began his dueling lessons with Sirius. It was something he had been looking forward to, if only because of how utterly necessary it would prove to be in his life, and it finally was starting.

Harry had always thought himself to be very good at Defense, since he'd had a _proper_ teacher that is, and that opinion was reinforced by him being the top Defense student in his year – even above Hermione! – in the last two years of his formal magical education. He knew creative applications in his spell casting – like turning dirt beneath his opponent's feet to mud or summoning debris to take a hit for him – and had studied the theory of dueling and other Defense-based topics with enthusiasm.

This self-image was all but shattered when Sirius started teaching him how to duel.

The first thing that happened was that Harry bowed as not only he had been "taught" but as Voldemort demanded in their one duel. Not even halfway through the bow he was caught by a stupefy. Sirius didn't let him heal the bruise he that had already started forming when he regained consciousness for the effort between duels either, so Harry had go through two hours of grueling lessons with a dark bruise along the side of his face, discounting the others he gained for further efforts.

It was twelve duels before Harry managed to get a spell off against his godfather.

Another ten passed before he managed to get it anywhere near Sirius.

Half an hour after that _Herculean_ effort, Harry found himself flat on his back after finding out that it was a bad idea to try to batter down a shield – as it just so happened, an experienced duelist could hold it up and keep their wand free. Dueling was far more difficult than he had imagined it to be.

"That's all for now, Harry," Sirius told him finally, mopping and the sweat that had only recently started beading on his forehead (Harry, on the other hand, was completely drenched). "I have a date in half an hour, and you… well, you look half-dead." With a final wink over his shoulder, Sirius exited Harry's domicile for the floo that would take him home. Harry only grumbled a vague response through the towel that had been tossed on his face and didn't bother trying to move.

Half-dead was an understatement in his opinion. He felt like someone had run him through a meat grinder and then been reformed using pieces of used spell-o tape. It really did _not_ feel good. Harry was feeling drained, his magic stretched pretty well to the limits after spending three hours after school with the Black Magic club spelling things for various purposes. Spending another two hours using as much magic as he could get out against his godfather, who had quite well outstripped him both in power and ability, did not help such matters.

Worse still, he knew from when he'd been training for the sports festival that he had to move about some to stop the lactic acid from settling in, and the muscle relaxant potion, misnamed as it was, should not be used too often. Merlin only knew he would need it later if he continued this. And he would; he had to.

But first, he need water, a bath, some bruise balm, and to walk about a bit. He just had to get up from the ground before he did any of that, which was posing a problem as his right arm protested quite violently to the movement. Two hours of spell casting, getting _hit_ by Sirius' spells, and trying to dodge really did not leave him in the best condition.

The thing that exacerbated the matter was that his phone – which was sitting with his bag on the other side of the room that had been cleared for the dueling practice – started _pinging_ at him. And Harry really did not want to have to deal with it…

Regardless, he put most of his weight on his left arm, wincing as the bruise on his wrist twinged, and pushed himself first to a seated position and then up onto his feet. Thankfully, his legs hurt considerably less than his arms and he managed to walk over to his bag without problem. It was flicking open his phone before the sixth and final ring that nearly got him.

For the second time in as many weeks, Harry agreed to meet his (the word "boyfriend" still sounded all too foreign, especially considering how hesitant he was to explore the depth of his emotions for) Takashi for dinner, provided he gave Harry an hour to make sure he didn't keel over. Harry had finished taking a hot shower to relax himself – a bath would be too likely to lull him to sleep – and was halfway through applying the bruise balm when Rory apparated into the bathroom, completely uncaring that his master was half-naked.

"Master's Takashi is being here, Master Harry Potter," Rory informed him succinctly. "What is Master Harry Potter wishing for Rory to do with Master's Takashi?" Yes, Rory truly _was_ an odd duck among elves.

"Lead him into the second floor family room in the East Wing and tell him that I'll be down in a few minutes," Harry responded, not allowing himself to be at all embarrassed by being caught sitting in his boxers. It was a house-elf after all. Instead he resumed applying the paste to a rather violent-looking bruise on his thigh, if a bit quicker, and finished dealing with his "battle wounds."

A scary thought hit him, that if this was what Sirius – a man who loved him unequivocally and who was certainly not as high on the dueling bracket as some Death Eaters – could do this to him... what could the Death Eaters themselves do to him if he remained at his current level? Harry could barely suppress a shudder at this and instead set about buttoning his shirt. No, he certainly needed these courses.

Making sure that he didn't look absolutely horrible, or any more horrible than he looked with the side of his head so visibly bruised (he could put a glamour on it later if he really wanted to) and the slight limp he sported (which could not be covered by a glamour but would be taken care of when the potion that was dealing with his twisted ankle set to work), Harry soon exited his rooms. Aside from minute twinges in his ankle, arms, and thigh, he felt perfectly fine as he walked down to the next floor to meet up with Takashi (though he was certain that they had agreed to meet _at_ the restaurant and not his place...).

Seeing Takashi standing in front of the mantle made Harry's Tuesday just a bit better. The "family rooms" were really just rooms that Harry had had no real use for until Sirius' first visit when he suggested that Harry have rooms for entertainment _other_ than just books. It had take some doing, but he had three such rooms with various games, televisions, and anything that Sirius (or other visitors really) would like to occupy themselves with. Harry only really went in if Sirius dragged him along or if he felt like watching the news or a movie since they were the only rooms in the house with televisions set up. The one in the East Wing was the one that Harry had set up for Sirius' personal use if only to get the man to shut up.

He approached with steps silenced on the carpet, though each rustle of cloth and shallow breath seemed to echo in his own ears. Takashi had snuck up on Harry three times a day on average over the past nine days, and he wanted a bit of payback for that, though he doubted he would manage it. Takashi was far more aware of his surroundings than Harry could dream to be.

Every pause in Harry's pace seemed deafening in his own ears, the whimpers caught in his throat from each stressed muscle and stretched bruise making him wonder if Takashi was just humoring him, not that he would mind that in this case. He was, however, a bit more concerned with the large bruise that he knew was on his upper back and he simply hadn't been able to reach to use the balm on, especially when it hurt to move his shoulders at all. That particular bruise would have to wait until Wednesday (for it was Tuesday) most likely, when he could get Sirius to deal with it for him. Until then, Harry was would be in pain any time he moved any of the muscles in his back. He never realized previously how often he actually did that precise thing, either.

As if completely oblivious to Harry's approach and thoughts, Takashi continued to look at something his hand – likely a photo from the mantle – and allowed Harry to approach as if undetected. Again, Harry doubted that he actually hadn't been noticed, he was obviously being far too loud in his care to avoid further injury, but he was directly behind Takashi, only a foot away.

"Evening, Takashi," Harry greeted. Takashi obliged the greeting by turning around to look at the first year, and Harry was surprised. Not for anything that one might normally be surprised about, but because Takashi was surprised. Had he _actually_ snuck up on him?

Harry's attention was drawn less than a second later to movement in Takashi's hand, specifically to the moving picture that Harry knew he had not placed up on the mantle. Hell, he hadn't even known it existed! Foul play by Sirius was the main suspect. Harry could pinpoint the day that the picture was taken, too, as Harry was a thirteen-year-old drowned rat riding a Nimbus 2000 at high speeds. That was more than a year before he had finally hit five-foot, too. When he was still the smallest student at Hogwarts, even counting most of the first years.

Of course, Harry had been right about Takashi being surprised. However, as he found roughly five seconds after he had noticed the photograph, it was more than likely not for the reason he hoped.

Takashi's hand swiftly cup Harry's un-bruised cheek, gently turning his head to the side for a better look at the cheek that _was_ bruised. Gray eyes scanned the wound, Takashi's thumb gently prodding the purpled skin that was almost definitely starting to fade already (obviously, Harry couldn't tell as it was his own face). Those same eyes flicked up to meet Harry's as he turned the smaller boy's face to face him again, and Harry realized that waiting to apply a glamour might not have been his wisest idea.

Not that it hadn't occurred to him, but... well, they were all going to be healed soon anyway – with the exception of the one on his back, maybe two; Harry wasn't entirely certain on that point – and hiding that he was learning to defend himself was stupid. It was simply something that Harry had to know how to do, and he supposed, in a way, that he had wanted to show Takashi that he did not need protection.

Though the bruises themselves were quite suspect when put out of context when he thought of it. Never mind that there were only three visible – the one on his face, another under the cuff of his shirt, and the third was just barely notable beneath his collar – it was simply not a wise thing to show that all he _had_ to show for his defense attempt (which Takashi did not yet even know about) were a lot of bruises and a twisted ankle.

The fact that Takashi's eyes were glinting in a way that spoke great pain for whomever had done it did no assuage Harry's worries on the matter.

"Who did this to you?" Takashi's words were a slow and low rumble, taught with a feeling of anger, and of something else that Harry pegged as akin to guilt... but what did Takashi have to be guilty for? Even out of context, Takashi wasn't there and given all the possibilities for what could have happened, none of them would be things that the senior could have prevented. It truly boggled Harry's mind to think of the guilt complex that his... that Takashi had.

His own guilt complex and paranoia regarding the injury of his friends was, of course, not a subject that Harry's thoughts would breach.

Regardless, as they stood before one another in what could be considered an intimate position, Takashi's words stung Harry. He should have put the glamour on before coming down here. No matter his reasons – whether it be for the simple matter of truth or any other (such as not wanting to have his back aggravated by being pressed into the wall... although...) - it had been a stupid move to show off his "battle wounds" without giving their reason first. He and Takashi were too similar in that respect for him to _not_ understand what might be felt when he saw them.

"I'm getting lessons in magical combat," Harry explained as best he could. "I went into it thinking myself a lot better than I was and Sirius decided to knock me down a peg or two. Most of the bruises will be gone before I go to bed tonight anyway; I was going to apply a glamour to keep them hidden until then."

Takashi's grip slackened and his eyes narrowed, and Harry knew why quite well. The idea that Sirius could do this to Harry – Sirius, who probably loved Harry as if he were his own flesh and blood rather than his godson and who didn't seem to have a dangerous bone in his body – was almost preposterous. And yet with the evidence staring him in the face... well, the Boy-Who-Lived could well imagine what _anyone_ would make of that.

"Most?" Yes, that was the part that Harry hoped he wouldn't catch on to. There was no use lying – firstly because Harry had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to bring himself to, second because it wasn't anything that really required lying anyway even if he didn't want any sort of sympathy, and third because he was fairly certain that he wouldn't be able to get away with lying to Takashi's face like that – and yet he did not want to bother Takashi with his problems.

So he shrugged, barely refraining from wincing as all the muscles in his back protested to giving his shoulders the necessary lift. Funny, that he should be the less vocal member of their conversation for once. It was an interesting switch to be certain.

It was not, however, enough that he refrained. Takashi was far too perceptive for that, and it only took two seconds after Harry shrugged for a light of understanding to show in his eyes that were mere inches from Harry's own. "Your back?" He asked quietly. Another funny thing, how the one time where he wasn't thinking of being so close to Takashi as being intimate and perhaps even a bit embarrassing, and it was because of a few bruises. Perhaps busted capillaries were simply not conducive to blushing?

"I was going to ask Sirius to take care of it for me later," Harry attempted to wave off the concern. "Everyone gets a bit banged up when they're first learning to fight, no matter the method, right? It's nothing to worry about." He really didn't think it was. He had a total of twelve bruises, some large (like the one on his back) and some small (like the one on his wrist). Sirius had picked this method of teaching Harry for a reason, and the young wizard wasn't going to forget the lessons that were taught when they were so thoroughly pounded into his thick skull.

"Hm," Takashi grunted. His hand fell from Harry's face and he straightened up, using his nearly-a-foot of height advantage to look down on the first year. "Take your shirt off."

Harry's mind only barely registered the potential for perversion behind that statement, but only just. Takashi was not like that, and he'd seen Harry's without a shirt before. He wanted to help. With a small smile, Harry summoned the bruise balm from his room and took care in unbuttoning his short in a way that would cause the least amount of tension in his back while the small pot navigated the halls to reach him. It sped in and even as Takashi moved to intercept, Harry's hand snatched it from the air without much thought.

Though the strain on his bruises – the one on his back and the two on that arm – made him wince slightly, Harry was still quite glad for his Quidditch reflexes. He knew that it would have beaned him in the head otherwise, as Takashi wasn't moving fast enough to grab it as Harry had. Instead of dwelling on it, Harry set the balm on an end table and finished divesting himself of his shirt.

If it wouldn't have hurt him, Harry would have ruffled the hair in the back of his head in his usual gesture of self-comfort. As it was, he remained under Takashi's scrutiny without any sort of comforting mechanism. So he refused to meet Takashi's gaze instead.

Suddenly the dueling lessons seemed simultaneously like the dumbest and most brilliant thing that he had ever done.

* * *

The next day, Harry was sitting in the Host Club room getting some quick help on his math work from Hani, with Takashi sitting across from them reading... something. Harry hadn't really noticed what. Maybe he wouldn't need such mathematical aid if he had taken Arithmancy like Hermione suggested – another way Ron had ruined him was by convincing him to take only slacker classes – but it was too late to do anything about it now. As it was, he had to study up on the subject some for the up-and-coming exams as it was a required subject throughout most of the world.

"I really don't see the point in knowing how to input this Quadratic stuff," Harry sighed. "Oomae-sensei already taught us a program on our calculators that does it automatically; why should we even bother?" Even Arithmancers used calculators nowadays! And yet Oomae-sensei demanded that they know how to do the Quadratic formula off the top of their heads without any help from a calculator. It was hardly something that Harry considered practical, no matter what his choice in careers would be (not that he didn't already know). "I highly doubt I'll ever need to be able to find this sort of thing in some sort of life and death situation."

"Harry-chan, it's easy! Besides, if Oomae-sensei only taught you how to do things on the calculator, he wouldn't be much of a teacher," Hani reprimanded. "He's teaching you how to think instead of just parroting facts. Now all you have to do is -"

"I know, Senpai," Harry sighed. "That makes seven plus or minus the square root of 33, all over two. It's still pointless though."

Hani only shrugged and took a bite of his cake, one that Harry had brought for him from Dinky (when she had found out that Harry had a friend who liked cake a lot, she had started insisting that she make some for him sometimes; luckily, they were small cakes, and she only demanded he give one to Hani per week). "You can make a big deal over something so small," Hani shook his head. As if _Harry_ was terribly immature or something. Though getting testy over math homework... he had to admit that that _was_ pretty stupid of him. Besides, complaining only took time away from what he now realized was a highly packed schedule.

He had school Monday through Friday, club activities and preparation for the carnival for three hours twice a week, studying for his muggle courses took up a good deal of time, plus there were his magical subjects and now dueling. Harry had to mind the plants in the greenhouses every day but Sunday when the Herbologist came in and he was at the Hospital at that time anyway. The small corral of creatures, mostly benign with a few that could be a tad snappish, had to be checked on at least once a week. On top of that he had recently started going to the Japanese Potter-Evans base on Saturdays to work with the magical serpents they had to make collection easier.

_And I keep shoving things into different time slots whenever Takashi asks if I want to do anything_, he thought with a mental sigh. It had happened only a few times thus far, but unless he had something that was terribly pressing, like a meeting with a business partner or some such scheduled, he wasn't going to say no. That much was obvious. How had things gone from him having all the time in the world to having almost none, anyhow?

"Harry-kun, the latest set of picture albums have arrived," Kyouya pulled a slim hard-bound volume from a stack beside him where the merchandise was being cataloged. "You, of course, get one for free for allowing us to use your image in this one." It was "The Mori Collection", and fronted by a picture of Takashi on his snowboard, a still frame caught in midjump (1). It was a good picture.

"So you only used the pictures where I was dancing with Takashi?" He asked. That was rather strange... the club purpose for the photos had been to have the Hosts dancing with boys to get the fangirls riled up, hadn't it? Though having Haruhi dance with the other Hosts made sense to be the only ones shown for her, and having Hani dance with a boy probably wasn't particularly cute, so it made sense, sort of, but it did seem kind of... off. Of course, Harry could certainly just be imagining things... yes. That had to be it.

"No," the answer was succinct, and Harry looked at the dark second year curiously. "I also used a couple of pictures of you with Mori-senpai from the mountains, and one or two from our visit to the temples."

"Oh," Harry blinked and flipped open the book to look. There weren't a lot of pictures, per se, only about forty – Harry had expected far more given it was the Host Club – but each came with a caption of some sort. It just so happened that Harry was also in at least a third of the pictures. There were two of Takashi teaching the young wizard how to snowboard, standing so close that Harry wondered how he hadn't noticed at the time. Another picture had Takashi carrying an unconscious Harry into Kurakano's family lodge, bridal style, his face riddled with worry.

Another was of Harry leading Takashi over the dance floor, Takashi smiling a small smile that, now Harry looked at it, was a bit... _more_ than his usual. It made Harry's breath catch as he pinpointed the exact moment that that smile had occurred; when Harry had called him Takashi for the first time – no suffixes, no playful "sensei" added to the end, simply Harry calling the older boy by his given name.

They were all very good pictures, mind, and Harry could appreciate that, but the potential for misunderstanding of those moments... Not that such misunderstandings would be inaccurate regarding emotion between the two overall (to an extent), but those moments had all been perfectly innocent to Harry's knowledge. Though he couldn't withhold a small wince at seeing the picture of Takashi coming to his rescue. It really shouldn't have happened to begin with.

Rather than allow himself to dwell on such guilt-inducing topics as the unnecessary rescues or rage-inducing things as Draco Malfoy's appearance on the mountain which had ruined the start of Harry's vacation. The fact that he had soon found out that there really was nothing to glean from the encounter that could enlighten him as to the Death Eater's intentions was still a bit of a sore point. Harry didn't want to dwell on _that_ pink elephant either and instead tried to think of happy things.

Like the third to last picture in the book that had Takashi walking through the halls of Ouran being dragged by Hani and dragging Harry along behind him. Strange, since Harry didn't recall seeing Kyouya take any such picture. Also strange because there was really no point in having such a photo in the album to begin with.

Even though Harry did like it. A bit. Not that he was going to tell anyone.

"They're nice pictures, and you've arranged them into a good order," Harry told Kyouya as he clapped the book shut. No need to say anything about how much he actually liked the pictures themselves after all. "I'm sure they'll sell very well among Takashi's fangirls."

_And the yaoi girls when they catch wind of some of those pictures_, he amended mentally. After all, the sight of Takashi standing behind Harry and arranging his limbs like that looked a lot less innocent in a still frame like that. Actually, if any of _Harry's_ fangirls (and especially the fan_boys_) caught wind of it, there would be a riot and the things would fly off the shelves just for the pictures of Harry without his defenses up. The fanboys would likely take such seemingly intimate photos as a sign that they had a chance.

However, fangirls and fanboys were all creepy as Hell. No way was Harry going to ever even _consider_ dating one. Until about two weeks ago, he'd never even seriously considered dating... and yet there he was.

"I thought so too," Kyouya agreed with all the ease in the world. "The sets have been on the website, and the pre-orders already take up most of the stock. We'll probably be sold out of this set by next week if my calculations are correct." The obligatory "and they always are" was left unsaid.

Takashi plucked the volume up from where Harry had placed it on the table a flicked through it, stopping on occasion. Harry could have sworn his cheeks turned a pale shade of red when he reached about the middle, the area where the pictures of him helping Harry learn to snowboard were, but other than that he didn't react more than a nod and – at one point – a smile here and there. The album was slid back across the table to Harry who smiled a bit in response. He really hadn't expected more than one or two pictures that would include himself in the entire set, and even then he had expected them to be more of a cameo appearance, and yet he was prominently featured in more than a quarter of Takashi's set.

It was kind of cool, he supposed, but if his fans ever caught wind of this... he shuddered to think of what a bunch of witches and wizards could do with them. None of the ideas were terribly good.

Harry glanced at his watch. "It's almost time for you guys to open up; I'll go back into hiding," he stated, slipping his math text back in his bag. "See you all again in a few hours then, shall I?" Everyone bid Harry a good study time and he walked off. They had about ten minutes, true, but time tended to fly in the club room. Girls would have been entering before he even realized it at that point, and while it was common knowledge that he studied in the side room, he still tried to remain hidden during club hours.

He was surprised to find, as he turned about, that Takashi had followed him. His own comeuppance for going off in his own little world.

Or perhaps the comeuppance came when Harry found lips pressed firmly over his own and an arm wrapped around his waist. He really wasn't entirely sure. Either way, he rather liked it and reciprocated as best he could.

When they came up for air, Harry heard the sound of girls outside the room. The Host Club had opened.

"See you later, Takashi," Harry bid his... his boyfriend as he left. The response was that Takashi turned slightly and smiled a smile that Harry had seen on the older boy's face twice, and only once had it been directed at him. The charming smile made Harry's face want to spontaneously combust as the door clicked shut.

**Author's Note: I'm not going to start with anything that actually has to do with this chapter. Instead, I am going to plug my new Forum – it's for Harry Potter crossovers (readers, writers, discussion, challenges, suggestions, etc). If you are interested, the link is on my profile page. Not that anyone other than me has posted anything yet, but I have hopes that it will... be more lively. Maybe.**

**No, Sirius has no remorse beating the shit out of Harry. Harry overestimated himself, and Sirius showed him just how small a fish he was. It had to be done; funny how it took him the better part of a week to decide on that strategy though (in my opinion). Harry won't give up though, because he wants to do this. And, of course, Takashi supports him (silently) in his quest for self-defense, though you can be sure that Takashi would rather it was in a form of combat that can't just be taken away that easily. Teehee, pictures of Mori/Harry cuteness that Harry can have... and imagine what the Mori fangirls must think, ne?**

(1) Way back in chapter 20... feels like forever ago, doesn't it? And yet for them it has hardly been over a month! By the way, this particular moment happens on January 20, 2007. (Making a timeline out of Ouran is so hard...)

**At the request of cluelessromantic I decided to add an omake to this chapter (I was planning to not write any more omake until I was done writing this story entirely, but... well, I suppose I might as well add this one). I know my omake are different from the normal ones in that they are actually written like they're part of the story (they're more like missing scenes/perspectives)... but normal is overrated X3**

_Omake #2: takes place on December 11, 2006, right after school lets out for the winter break (during chapter 19)_

Takashi kneeled down, allowing his cousin to hop up on his shoulders with the minimum fuss. With both his own bag and that of his cousin slung over his shoulder, the Morinozuka heir stood by the door, waiting for the rest of his class to filter out before doing so himself, both hand on Mitsukuni's knees on the off chance that the young blond lost his balance.

"Takashi, let's go to the club room first, okay? I saw the cake delivery people came this morning, and I don't want to waste any cakes if they did leave some for me," Mitsukuni's grin was evident in his bubble voice, and Takashi nodded slightly. Enough to give confirmation without doing so verbally, but not so much that it would knock his charge from his shoulders while he changed direction. It was strange that Kyouya would forget to cancel the cake delivery today, considering how on top of things the boy usually was, but Takashi ignored that thought.

Mitsukuni wanted cakes, so cakes he would have whether Kyouya had forgotten to cancel the service or not. It was an unwritten rule of the universe that the will of the smallest senior could not be denied even by the laws of physics.

As he walked down the hall to the club room, Takashi's eyes wandered to the outdoors, where it was snowing lightly. It was too warm for it to stick, but snow was snow. If Tamaki agreed to have the club go to the mountains with the first years (as if he would give up the chance to be around his "daughter") they would be seeing a lot of it for the next week regardless.

However, a dark head of hair walking on the ground-level paths caught Takashi's eye, and he couldn't help but slow down his pace to match that of Harry. The boy was... a mystery. When he had met Potter Harry in April, he had pegged the boy as being a regular company heir, holding a mask in place whenever possible, a loner by nature though he obviously wanted to join in on the antics of his age-mates, as if he was afraid of human contact. He had seemed personable in his own right, but more that he didn't want to be around people when it was obvious he did. He had been confusing and Takashi had given up on figuring out the emerald eyed British boy only a week after meeting him.

While the gifts that Harry had given the Hosts as a "thank you" had been thoughtful – Takashi had been looking for a copy of the particular history text that Harry had given him for _months_ – and the fact that he joined the Black Magic Club of all things was strange to say the least, but Takashi hadn't realized how wrong he was about the teen until Tamaki had demanded their way into Haruhi's home. Not only was Harry content to live in a small apartment (a very brave feat as Takashi later found out from the claustrophobia episode), but he seemed to thrive in it. And he could cook, very well as a matter of fact, which was curious given his obvious wealth.

As Takashi paid more attention, he realized just what sort of person Harry was; self-sacrificing, protective, and with a heart made of twenty-four karat gold. When Mitsukuni got a cavity, Harry didn't hesitate to use what was undoubtedly an expensive medicine to cure it, something that Takashi could never measure up to. He hadn't hesitated to help them rescue Haruhi when he thought she was in danger, and it was obvious that the teen didn't consider the Host Club his friends, no matter how much he seemed to want to. The only reason Takashi could think of for it was that he was trying to protect himself – or perhaps the Hosts – from something by maintaining distance.

Takashi wasn't exactly the best English student either – it was why he had switched to Greek upon reaching the high school section – but when Harry's twin friends, the Weasleys, had come he had caught a few words. That he hadn't even told his own friends that he was coming to Japan for one. That he hadn't contacted them since for another. Even if that was all he really caught from the confusing dialogue of the English twins, it had been enough to cement that it was more likely Harry was protecting those around him than himself. Learning that the boy's parents were dead – when, they didn't learn for another month – only helped that assumption.

Then there was the encounter with people who Harry obviously saw as a threat and he stood between the three grown men and the Hosts. After that came the revelation of magic.

And Harry was still a mystery that drew Takashi in like a fish on a hook. He was also a good friend, something Takashi was not going to deny at any point in time, even if the boy had only started allowing them in in August. He doubted Harry had even started admitting to himself that he liked the Hosts at all until that point. There was also a small stirring of... something else regarding the wizard, but Takashi wouldn't allow himself to dwell on that. Sure, Harry liked boys, but the chances of him liking Takashi... and Takashi would be the first to admit that his own attentions could be a bit stifling.

"Takashi? Why have we stopped?" Mitsukuni asked, causing Takashi to jolt a bit. Harry too had stopped, in the area just behind the school, and Takashi hadn't even been paying attention, too lost in his own thoughts. He felt Mitsukuni lean over his head to look out the window. "What's Harry-chan doing out –" he stopped suddenly as the teen whirled about on his feet and vanished.

Takashi continued on to the Third Music Room. When they reached the doors, Mitsukuni jumped off of him, using his head as the fulcrum of a flip – Takashi had become used to it so long ago that the extra pressure was barely even noted – before landing in front of the door which was – curiously enough – unlocked. Usually they had to either wait for Kyouya or Takashi would get the spare key from on top of the sign that declared the room as the Third Music Room. Curious, but not overly so.

What was curious was that Mitsukuni suddenly flung himself at Takashi and kicked him in the face.

"Admit that you like Harry-chan!" Mitsukuni demanded as Takashi blocked the next strike, completely ignoring the pain in his face.

Well, there was no point denying it, but why did it even matter? "Aa," Takashi agreed and pushed his cousin away, closing the door behind him so that no wandering eyes would see the definitely-curious sight.

"Not to me! Tell Harry-chan!" Mitsukuni scrunched his face up and flung himself forward again, leaving a very shallow scratch on Takashi's collar for the effort and gaining what would undoubtedly be a bruise on his own arm as Takashi sought to deflect him while taking and giving the least amount of damage possible. Telling Harry was not an option, so instead of replying Takashi continued to defend himself against the onslaught.

By the time they were finished, neither were terribly winded, and Takashi was ashamed to say that he had lost the fight. It was one thing to spar his cousin; it was another thing to fight him outright. Before Takashi could say otherwise, Mitsukuni had called the first year that the battle had apparently been fought over, and the diminutive Host had retrieved the mysterious cake to munch on as they waited while Takashi decided that he would sit on the window and – for lack of a better word – brood, carefully wrapping his sprained (at least he hoped it was just sprained) wrist up in a splint. There wasn't much of a point since Harry was coming, and he could fix just about anything with magic, but it did assuage the pain slightly.

Mitsukuni was not someone to fight with, especially when he was being serious about something. And he was certainly being serious during that fight.

Harry arrived and he healed them, not asking too many questions (it pretty much stopped at "What happened to you two?"). There was a momentary scare where Takashi thought he would have to deal with a broken wrist for the next couple of weeks, but when professional healing was promised should that be the case, Takashi returned his gaze to the window, though his attention was on Harry.

He knew he was being short with the boy, and he really didn't mean to be... but he was frustrated. And having Harry enter his personal space to put the bruise balm on his eye wasn't helping, even if the cool balm soothed the steady ache. Harry had healer's hands, that much was easy to tell by the way he was always able to take care of an injury without aggravating it at all, and he healed each wound with the ease of practice and care. Takashi's mood was a bit harder to heal was all.

Hardly a minute later, Takashi is impressed. He was angry with his cousin of course, for being sneaky (recalling the "House" system Harry had explained, he wondered how the first year could have ever placed Mitsukuni as a "Hufflepuff" when he was so clearly "Slytherin"), but he was impressed nonetheless. By the extraordinary shade of red that Harry had managed to turn that is. It looked like his face had been painted the color of a tomato. Honestly, it was even brighter than when Takashi's "disciple", Kasanoda, had accidentally stumbled across Haruhi changing.

Takashi tried to ignore Harry as he invaded his personal space again to obey the law of giving Mitsukuni what he wanted. And Mitsukuni wanted Harry to kiss Takashi's scratches better... the boy was gone not ten seconds later, looking as though he'd just done something stupid and was waiting for the gods to strike him down or something.

"So, Takashi, do you still think that Harry-chan doesn't like you?"

"Hn."

**Okay, so that was the length of an actual scene, but whatever... lol. I still liked it. It was fun to write! :D**


	29. Chapter 29

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64. Ridiculously long omake (3.5k words), and the actual substantial part of this chapter is kind of short.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 29

It took another two days for Harry to discover that his idea for what Rita's article would do was completely and utterly wrong.

The day started easily enough. Harry arrived at school and went to classes. Some girls were giggling over Ouran photo albums – during lunch some sent speculative glances toward him and Takashi (Kyouya was pleased to note that he was almost completely out of those particular albums), but it was otherwise normal. Some particularly persistent yaoi fangirls – usually they were into the twincest act rather than Takashi, but apparently the "power of moe" was enough to sway them for a little while at least – had taken to asking Harry questions that he didn't deign to answer. Some girls were a bit politer and didn't try to insinuate anything in an obvious manner, and he would at least reply to them in some way.

Kyouya had also been pleased by the squeals that erupted during club on Friday when a Takashi fangirl had asked Harry why he was suddenly calling Takashi by his given name (though how the fangirls had noticed the change when he rarely left his "cave" during club hours...). Harry's reply of "when Takashi asked me to" had apparently caused sixteen more albums to be sold, disturbingly enough. The drastic increase in girls designating Takashi that day had already set the "Cool" type grinning, so the combined effect was almost... disturbing, perhaps?

He noted that there were some reporters "hiding" just off of school grounds but he didn't think anything of it. There had been reporters all the two weeks that school had been back in session after all; it was nothing new. In fact, he didn't even think of the article when he saw them. The reporters were at least being inconspicuous now (to an extent), which was an improvement.

Of course, Harry hadn't been anywhere but his estate, in the car, and at Ouran since Sunday when he had given the interview in the first place. Since his almost-date with Takashi for Tuesday had been ruined by Harry not having his bruises taken care of beforehand, they had rescheduled for Friday night (allowing Harry to cancel that evening's dueling lesson – Sirius hadn't even asked why he wanted a night off so soon – for some recuperation). When Harry's car stopped in front of the movie theater that Takashi had selected – Harry had never realized the cinema could be upscale, but it was possible apparently – he found out just what the article had wrought. Or he thought so anyway.

Within one minute of Harry getting out to wait for Takashi to arrive, he noticed the concentration of wizarding folk and reporters increasing, though they kept their distance. The quick response was nothing new, and the fact that he wasn't immediately swarmed by fans, "friends", admirers, grateful people, reporters, small children who were _positive_ that he had nothing better to so with his time than sign something for them... it was kind of nice. Though the glares he received from a few of them... that was rather strange. A few photographers snapped off pictures of him standing in front of the theater, but fewer than usual.

Harry thought that everything that had happened was a welcome change. Until Takashi's limo pulled up and the tall senior stepped out, straightening imaginary wrinkles from his suit. Harry strode forward and they met halfway between the curb and the entrance to the theater.

That was when the first fangirl walked up –

And slapped Harry across the face. He honestly had no clue _why_, considering he had never even seen this witch before, let alone his complete ignorance as to who she was or what she was saying. When she started yelling things that he was _sure_ were obscene in a thick language that sounded Germanic or Scandinavian in origin, The-Vanquisher-of-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named just gave her a blank look.

Meanwhile, Takashi stepped forward a bit to put something – himself – between Harry and the crazy fangirl, a hard look on his face. The fangirl then reached out to slap him too. Takashi merely caught her wrist in a light grip for half a moment before dropping it and turning about to lead Harry (who was, at this point, rubbing at his stinging cheek) toward the theater –

Only to see a lot more fangirls blocking the way. And fanboys of course, but mostly fangirls. Harry slowly backed up a step so that he was just in front of Takashi, trying to signal the older boy to run somehow. Either his attempts worked, or Takashi had come to the same conclusion as Harry – that the fans were angry for Merlin only _knew_ what reason and that it was best to get as far away as possible as soon as possible – and made a mad dash (or as mad as Takashi's stride ever could be) away. With Harry held securely in his arms of course. It wouldn't do to leave him to the wolves like that after all.

Harry managed to direct Takashi to the nearest apparition point – though the sight of two men in suits, one carrying the other in an all out sprint, while being chased by a small horde of men and women, mostly foreigners, whose ages ranged from 13 to 36 drew quite a bit of attention – and as soon as his feet touched the ground he turned on his heel, Takashi's arm in a firm grip, and apparated away.

Not an instant too soon, either, as the mob of witches and wizards were just turning the corner at the time.

Either way, the being-pulled-through-a-rubber-tube sensation of apparation left Takashi feeling a bit woozy and he promptly fell over when they landed. Harry had to levitate him to a couch in the sitting room adjacent to the apparition chambers. After making sure that neither of them had been splinched – not something he wanted a repeat of as, when Sirius was teaching him to apparate, he kept forgetting his toes or an elbow – Harry called on Dinky to make something that would settle Takashi's stomach.

Yet another date that had not gone as planned. (1)

"Sorry about that, Takashi," Harry sighed as he passed over the Intest-Ease (Guaranteed to Fix Any Digestive Problem and Queasiness with the Minor Side-Effect of Lost Mobility in the Left Pinky Finger for Three -3- Hours) to the slightly green-looking teen. "That's twice I've introduced you to magical transportation without the proper warnings. Though what the hell was up with those people..." He sighed and sat down in a chair next to the couch he had set Takashi on. "Rory! Could you pop by the Medical Offices and ask for any personal updates for me?"

After finding out about the whole Dumbledore-has-gone-missing thing a month late (he was surprised the ex-Headmaster hadn't popped up in Japan yet), Harry had set up a service with the Potter-Evans stand-in. Whenever anything important pertaining to Harry was published, it would be added to an inbox that Harry emptied at least once a week, and if it was important enough they would call in Rory to pick it up rather than wait. The rate of these publications had increased hardly a week after setting it up when Harry's presence was outed to the world, but there hadn't been anything "important" since the initial article about his being in Japan.

Not that he thought that whatever this was was particularly important, just that he wanted to know if there was any printed reason for the attack of the fangirls/boys.

In response to Harry's apology, Takashi only made a vague grunting noise, forced himself to sit up slightly, and threw back the Intest-Ease as quickly as possible. Takashi had only once ever had to ingest any potions, and had apparently taken the lesson to heart; Harry figured his own disgusted expressions after taking any were enough of an indicator, and Hani had complained a bit about the Concussion-Be-Gone that Harry had given him back in August, so combined with the sprain-healing potion, Takashi probably had good guidelines for taste. Besides, it was only some of the pain relievers and sleep potions that tasted like anything better than rotting lemons.

Rory arrived back with the usual stack of papers from various nations. Harry picked up the one on top, from Tuesday in one of the local gossip rags, and didn't think twice when he saw that it was headed "Vanished-Vanquisher Speaks Out! Potter's Fans Offended." Well, of course they were offended. That much was obvious.

Harry sighed and went to the appropriate page. He hardly even noticed as Takashi leaned over the arm of the couch to read beside him.

_**Vanished-Vanquisher Speaks Out!  
Potter's Fans Offended**__  
By Miura Yuki – 20 January, 2007_

_With the publishing this past Tuesday of an exclusive interview given by Potter Harry, the world is in shock. Fans everywhere – particularly those visiting Tokyo for the chance to see the elusive Potter – are up in arms over some statements the young Hero made in the interview._

_"I don't want fans," Potter said in his interview with Rita Skeeter when asked why he went into hiding from the magical world. "Fans throw themselves at my feet. They all know who Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, is. None of them want to bother finding out who 'Just Harry' is, and I can't stand by that. Part of why I came to Tokyo is because here, especially in the muggle world, I'm practically a nobody, which is just the way I like it. The past few weeks have been hell, no thanks to my 'fans.'"_

_A harsh statement that has not been well received. American witch, Andrews Chelsea, had this to say: "I totally get that he doesn't want to be famous. I mean, he stayed out of the spotlight and hid from us and everything, but blaming everything on the fans is so not cool! We just want him to know we appreciate how awesome he is, and then he goes and stomps on our good will! I mean, what's up with that?"_

_Likewise, Creevey Colin, a friend of Potter's from Hogwarts, wrote to us with the following statement: "What about everyone in Britain, Harry? We weren't throwing ourselves at you! He never said no to me taking pictures and selling them in the _Prophet_." _(2)

_On the flip-side, local witches and wizards stand behind Potter whole-heartedly. A young squib and one of Potter's schoolmates by the name of Kanazuki Reiko was quick to respond to interviewers. "Potter-kun is right to not want fans. A fan is someone who sees an icon, and since he does not wish to be an icon it does not sit well with him. I don't like him, but Potter-kun is right."_

_In a poll of our readership here at _Kappa's Captions_, seventy-percent of witches and wizards support Potter's stance, ten percent are neutral, twelve percent are offended, and the remaining eight percent are undecided. A similar poll in foreign papers have claimed that sixty-four percent of magical people internationally have been incited, seventeen percent condone Potter's statements, and the rest are neutral or undecided._

_Whatever the opinion, there are many angry fans out to get Potter, and even more his "friends", particularly one Morinozuka Takashi who Potter seems to be closest too. Many of the people who have been interviewed showed bitterness to Potter's friends, who are muggles. Whether this is an expression of anti-muggle sentiment or fan-vs-friend drama is up to you._

Harry could only gape at the article. That... it was...

"My fangirls are going to kill me," he stated, voice flat. Takashi could do little more than offer a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. (3)

And to think Harry had been worried about Death Eaters...

* * *

Harry did not leave his house that weekend, not that he had been planning to. Instead he absorbed himself in studying, pushing all thoughts of his wrathful fans from his mind. Sirius popped by Sunday evening for another dueling lesson, so Harry had no problems relaying what he had found out from the article, and the rest associated with it.

The article from the _Caption_ was one of the more mild ones. There were apparently quite a few quotes that were being protested violently by Harry's fans, all concerning his personal views on fans-vs-friends, his privacy, and apparently his fans also strongly disagreed with the notion that they were swarming on him. Which they were, but when Jeremy Wagner of Germany was asked, he claimed that they were trying to "impress upon Harry how important to the world he is."

_Because nothing says "you're important" like stuffing your underwear with your floo address on it in a guy's pocket_, Harry thought with a derisive snort when he went over some of the articles with Sirius.

Of course, ten minutes later Sirius was hurling curses at Harry and the younger wizard was trying very hard to not get hit. It was considered an accomplishment when he managed to block and/or avoid the first three spells. He even managed to fire off an _Impedimenta_! Not that it hit Sirius, but it was close.

The stunning spell that hit Harry in the chest right after he saw the spell brush by Sirius' cloak didn't take him by too much of a surprise. At least he'd learned how to position himself when impact was inevitable to prevent bruising (a technique that Hani had taught him when he showed up to school on Friday with another bruise on his back that Takashi volunteered to take care of for him).

When next consciousness took him, Harry found Sirius' hand in his face in an offer of help up. That was already the sixth duel that Harry had lost in the space of ten minutes (by Harry's count; he hadn't actually looked at the clock), but it hardly mattered. After three lessons thus far, he was improving. Maybe he would be able to stand his ground when the Death Eaters did... whatever they were going to do.

Harry took the hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. He knew quite well that each time Sirius knocked him out was another time he "died" in combat; with luck the frequency of such instances would decrease as the lessons progressed. Placed properly on his feet, Harry was ready for the next round, but it seemed Sirius was not as the hand grasped – Harry's dominant hand – had not yet been released.

"Sirius? If we're going to duel I need to be able to draw my wand," he pointed out, sending his godfather a confused look. The animagus hadn't been normal all his life by what Remus claimed, but this behavior was still quite curious. By no means was Sirius sane. This strange fixation with Harry's hand, however, was more than a little disturbing. Then he noticed Sirius fiddling with the Claddagh on his finger. "I realize the ruby on the ring is pretty, but shouldn't we be dueling again?"

After a moment more of examination, Sirius did release the trapped appendage. "You're wearing your Claddagh wrong," Sirius stated when Harry had snatched his hand back. He furrowed his brow and looked at the ruby ring in question. Right hand, facing inward. "And it's a garnet, not a ruby." (4)

"Am I?" He asked curiously, completely dismissing the debate of what stone was in the ring. Right and in meant that he was taken, didn't it? While the fact that Takashi had known about Claddagh rings in the first place, let alone enough to swap it around properly, had been a bit strange, Harry was fairly certain that he was wearing it the way he was meant to be given his apparent relationship status. It was in the same position as Sirius' amethyst ring.

"Unless you picked up a boyfriend that I'm not aware of," Sirius continued in a jocular manner. And Harry felt like banging his own head open. Sirius knew that Harry and Takashi had made up over... whatever he thought Harry was depressed over for the first couple days of the New Year. In fact, he probably knew that they were closer than they had been before the year began given the fact that Harry was hanging about with the boy outside of school on school days and that he was calling Takashi "Takashi".

He did not know that Harry had confessed at the Hitachiin party, or that Takashi had left more than twenty messages on Harry's cell phone (apparently) in the space of a single day. He did not know that the dinner dates were just that or anything else of the sort. And that was something that, Harry realized, was probably not a great thing to keep from his godfather. Screw the man's nature as a gossip, he needed to know something like... well, like that.

Harry's silence as he thought – and, more precisely, berated himself – had been taken as a form of reply, a positive one at that. "You... wait, you did?" Sirius seemed genuinely confused. "But... I thought you liked Takashi? Not that it isn't great that you've got a boyfriend but I... mean..." He trailed off, attempting to string together some form of response to Harry's lack-there-of.

Meanwhile, Harry just sort of blinked at Sirius for about three seconds before a small snicker escaped him. Then something more akin to a proper laugh. Finally, Harry found himself doubled over in laughter – an entirely new experience for him, as the most hysterical he could ever recall being had only had him flop backwards in a chair.

When he came up for air, Harry's stomach actually ached from the spasms and his cheeks were stiff from the grin he had sported throughout that little outburst. What was so funny about the situation, he really didn't know, nor did he truly care to. Harry was a bit more caught up in the laughter that he could honestly find no reason for. It felt... good to laugh like that, even if it did hurt physically.

With Sirius' gaze trained on him, Harry sobered up and immediately felt like squirming under the look directed at him. So he decided to just spit it out.

"Sirius, Takashi _is_ my – my boyfriend." His face was heating up, though the reaction could have been far worse – if he blushed often enough, would the vessels burst and give him a permanent blush like a lush with a red nose? – and Harry wondered how he was going to survive life as a businessman if he kept up the blushing rate. Oddly, he hadn't really thought of that aspect of his future in at least a couple of weeks. Was he relaxing too much?

It didn't matter.

"He's your... but..." Sirius seemed completely uncomprehending before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed backward in a dead faint. What there was to faint over Harry could honestly not say... but this was Sirius after all, and Sirius did not have to make sense. It was his way. With a sigh, Harry sent an _Ennervate_ at his godfather. That was one way to knock a man out, he supposed.

The absolute glee with which Sirius hugged Harry when he woke up was, as the teen soon discovered, yet another such way.

* * *

The following Monday was the full moon, and the night of the third Death Eater attack. Again, no casualties, the only injury was to a passerby, but the target was slightly different this time. Instead of a department store like the last attacks had all been, the Death Eaters had struck – of all places – the ramen shop (5). There was no reason that the aurors could come up with, or Harry and Sirius for that matter unless they had decided that they would be destroying places that Harry frequented.

That did explain why, on Tuesday after Black Magic Club, Harry found Satoshi moping around the High School's kendo facilities when he passed by on the way to his car. He knew that Takashi was doing his every-other-daily time with the kendo club after his Host duties that day, so didn't even bother to think of why Satoshi was sitting on the bench under a warm spring sun (while in the rest of the country it was winter and dark out).

Though the moping did throw Harry for a loop since, on the few occasions he had seen Satoshi, the boy seemed excitable and enthusiastic about, well, just about anything really.

"Hey Satoshi-kun," Harry stated as he walked over. Hanazaka wasn't due for another ten minutes anyway, so he could spare the time. It was certainly better to remain on the private property of Ouran than hanging about on the streets and being swarmed by stalker-fans or the press. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, hi Harry-senpai. Terrorists blew up the ramen shop," Satoshi stated in a voice that was actually... calm. Not his usual emotional outburst in the least. "I was going to go there with Chika today, but it was blown up and then Chika got in a fight with Mitsukuni when I came over here to visit Taka-nii. Now Chika is at the hospital because Mitsukuni broke his nose, but they told Taka-nii and me to stay behind so he could finish his practice for today." He certainly seemed rather down.

"Well, so long as they went to an Ootori hospital, Yasuchika-san's nose should be fine by they time they get home," Harry reassured the middle school student. "Not sure about what can be done about the ramen shop though. My godfather already offered them a loan – which he will expect them to pay back in ramen most likely – to get the place rebuilt. I wouldn't be surprised if it's up and running again in a couple of months. Sirius' good word goes a long way."

"So does the word of anyone at Ouran though! And I won't have any of that delicious miso ramen for _months._" As it turned out, Satoshi was still excitable and highly emotive. He was just... sulking.

Harry shrugged. "Well, this will give you the opportunity to try other restaurants and stuff while you wait for it to be rebuilt," he put in. "And Sirius has very good connections to the construction industry. There's no way he'll let that place stay closed for more than two months; his mansion is pretty big and the building was completely finished in just six months. If he can get the same construction company on it, the ramen shop might even be completely rebuilt by the end of the school year."

Satoshi didn't seem too reassured. Well, why should he be? By muggle standards, that was impossible.

"Fine, don't believe me," Harry waved his hand airily. Seeing Satoshi being so contained was like seeing Takashi suddenly be highly emotive or Hani in a murderous mood (though that was more scary than disturbing), even though Harry really didn't see much of him. Perhaps making light of the situation would help a bit? "Do you think it's okay if I pop in there to say hi to Takashi? I wanted to ask him about something, but if he's practicing I don't want to disturb him."

"Eh?" Satoshi blinked at the sudden change in topic (from what little Harry knew of the younger boy he was normally switching topics halfway through a sentence – the loss of ramen must have really affected him!) before shrugging. "He's the only one left in there. I'm pretty sure he'll be finished soon anyway..." he trailed off, sending a look that Harry did not catch as he started walking toward the corner of the building to peek in through a window. "Harry-senpai, since when do you call Taka-nii by his name?"

Harry turned, having only gone about two steps. He shrugged, unsure of the look that was being sent his way. "He asked me to just after New Year." Technically he'd been asked to do so on New Year's Eve, but Harry hadn't made any sort of effort until the third when... now wasn't the time to think about that though. By the wide-eyed look on Satoshi's face, perhaps it meant something, but Harry didn't mind. "See you later. Try not to let the loss of the ramen shop get you too down, okay?"

Harry quickly fled the scene. That had been... odd. As a matter of fact, he wasn't meaning to come say hello to Takashi at all, but now that he thought of it, he could use some help in muggle geography. And telling Takashi to keep an eye out for his brother's mood wouldn't go amiss, surely. With that in mind, Harry peeked into the well-lit kendo dojo (though why on earth a _school_ had so many dojo – for kendo, karate, judo... the list went on, and one for each level of school – was beyond him) and tried to see if he could spot Takashi in the room.

Not that it was hard to locate him or anything. As the sole being in the dojo, it was hard to miss him.

In the ten seconds that Harry was staring at Takashi, he was astonished. Takashi moved with a fluid grace as he ran through the kata, the "blade" of the bamboo sword he was wielding swinging down with a low war cry. Then Harry blinked, and it was over. The straw figure that had been set up in front of Takashi exploded and was strewn across the nearer parts of the floor. Never before had Harry thought of Takashi as being dangerous in the least bit. With the straw scattering across the dojo floor and Takashi simply standing there for a breath, Harry couldn't help the blush that crept up his neck.

As Takashi calmly walked to the back wall to put his sword with the others lined up there, Harry decided to make his entrance. As with all the doors of Ouran, it didn't so much as squeak when Harry opened it, the tatami mats allowing only the barest of sounds to emanate from his footsteps. Takashi seemed completely ignorant of his entrance, though Harry wouldn't put it past him to have simply ignored him for the moment.

Takashi only turned around again when the wooden sword was on the rack and Harry was about fifteen paces away. Even from that distance, Harry could see the thin sheen of sweat on Takashi's brow, the deep breaths he took made his shoulders seem even broader, and Harry did something that he had not done before then.

He walked straight up to Takashi, wrapped his arms around the older boy's neck, and yanked him down for a kiss. Harry had not instigated any of their snogging sessions over the past weeks. Just this once, he couldn't help himself. Not that Takashi seemed to mind much as he reciprocated whole-heartedly, foregoing whatever surprise he might have had to Harry deciding to molest his mouth.

When Takashi pulled away for air – having been short of breath already from running through his kata for a while – Harry bemoaned the loss of contact, though having Takashi rest his forehead against his own was nice.

"Satoshi is outside," Takashi murmured quietly after a moment. His head lifted for a breath as he planted a small kiss on the seemingly clear space where Harry's scar was hiding.

"I know, I talked to him on my way in," Harry shrugged slightly. He had enjoyed the sort of tingly feeling from Takashi kissing his forehead (which was still a good inch or two below the taller boy's chin), and the slight weight of Takashi's head on his own. "He's pretty moody about that ramen shop being targeted last night. Sirius already has the place being rebuilt and it will probably be back to normal before you graduate."

Considering they had only been "together" for just over three weeks, the subject of what would happen when Takashi graduated had not been broached. Neither of them seemed keen on the idea and so they did not go further on that topic.

It did, however, take Harry a moment to realize why Takashi had actually brought the matter up. Takashi's brother – who probably had ADHD or something similar – was outside waiting for Takashi, completely oblivious to what Harry and Takashi were to one another. Satoshi was also quite likely to come in and see if Takashi was on his way out yet if he got bored watching the cherry blossoms falling, which was also likely.

"Do you care if he knows?" Harry asked after a moment of contemplation. They weren't exactly keeping their relationship a secret, per se, but they hadn't actually told anyone (except Harry telling Sirius over the weekend when he realized it was a liability to their security if Sirius _didn't_ know) or talked about telling anyone. Harry was embarrassed to admit that even Hani probably didn't know, and Hani knew pretty much everything about Takashi that there was to know.

There was a moment of silence before Takashi slowly shook his head.

A small smile flicked onto Harry's face. "Neither do I," he grinned internally at the nonplussed look on Takashi's face that stayed for all of three seconds before he mimicked Harry's small smile. Harry's reward for that comment left him breathless and blushing. Not that he minded.

They broke apart again and Takashi slipped away, saying he had to shower and change (the thought made Harry turn a bit brighter shade of red) and asked Harry to wait. The young wizard nodded and entertained himself by counting cherry blossoms as they fluttered by the window. According to the information Hani had given him, Autumn would be coming tomorrow until the last spring of the school year arrived for the week of Exams and the Year End Carnival.

Takashi returned within ten minutes – Hanazaka had called when Harry wasn't waiting outside for him to make sure he hadn't been kidnapped by rabid fangirls and was waiting patiently – and seemed to take great pride in grasping Harry's hand as they left the dojo. Anytime such a thing had been done previously, Takashi had taken care to grab Harry by the wrist to make it seem like he was just dragging him along as something far less intimate. He had even threaded their fingers together as they walked side by side around the building to where Satoshi was sitting. Unlike Harry, who could entertain himself with a bit of scenery and sky, Satoshi was playing something on his DS.

"Aa! Taka-nii, you're done? Let's get going; Mom wanted us home by the time it got dark here and it's only another half hour 'til then," Satoshi hadn't even looked up as he saved his game and got up from the bench, stowing the device in his bag. "Dad called and said the cooks were going to make ramen tonight because the place we always go to is gone now. It's really nice of them, but I don't think they've ever made ramen and I know Mom isn't going to be happy since she doesn't like ramen but they'll probably take that into account and make her some chilled soba or maybe some Okinawa stir-fry since she liked it so much the last time they made it. Then again, Mom's been more inclined to Italian lately, and –"

It was amazing how much Satoshi could say in one breath, much like Hermione that way. He only paused when he looked at Takashi and Harry, his eyes darting first to their clasped hands. His head tilted for a moment as he assessed the situation before grinning at them in a manner that could only be considered _cheeky_.

"Mitsukuni was right!" Was the first thing out of his mouth. Suddenly he started spouting out a litany of... something. It was flowery and romantic and Harry was certain he heard some phrases that Tamaki commonly used on his customers (6). It was, however, completely incomprehensible to Harry. Maybe going to school at Ouran, where the seasons changed at the drop of a hat, all his life had effected Satoshi's mind.

Harry didn't have to look at Takashi to know that he was mildly bewildered by Satoshi's theatrics, though he was probably used to the middle school student's... _eccentricities_ by that point. As Satoshi wound down, Harry blinked owlishly.

"Erm... right..." he sent a side-long glance to Satoshi before turning to Takashi. "By the way, I was going to ask if you could help me with my geography sometime? I've been having some trouble since the focus is a lot different from England. Anytime is fine, just at some point before exams." They started walking to where their respective cars were waiting.

"Aa," Takashi nodded, pausing a moment in thought. He pulled out his cell phone and did a lot of typing – a text message that was promptly answered – before going on. "Dinner tomorrow?"

One day's notice was, so far, better than most of their other dinner dates. "Sure; when and where?" They were at the gates and Harry sent Takashi a small squeeze before their hands separated, leaving absolutely nothing for the press – or the fangirls – to talk about beyond Harry staying after with two of his fellow students while plenty of other students who were involved in clubs would have been departing in the past half hour as well.

"My place at seven?"

It was a surprise to be invited to Takashi's house – though it did explain the text message – and Harry nodded. Takashi and Satoshi went to the limo awaiting them and Harry went home without a hitch, ready to get the tar beaten out of him by Sirius again.

Before they started, Harry mentioned that the Wednesday practice would have to be canceled. When he stated why, Sirius nodded sagely.

"Oh, well good luck then," he said in an almost mournful tone. "The first time you meet the parents can be pretty nerve wracking."

**Author's Note: First thing's first – there is now Takashi/Harry fanart! Thanks a million to CluelessRomantic for drawing some adorable Mori/Harry moments! Links are in my profile if you lot want to look (and you really should)! XD Thanks also to Araceil for drawing a picture of Harry and one of Harry being attacked by Fred and George! Links also on my profile :3**

**I have decided that, from now until the series' end, I will be writing a bunch of omake – my style of omake that is. They're really more like "missing scenes" or scenes from alternate perspectives, but whatever. Either way, each chapter from now to the end (and there shall be one) will end with an omake. After I'm done with the series, I will have a chapter (or two?) dedicated to missing scenes. And maybe an epilogue (I might even make a JKR style epilogue-of-fail just to screw with you all). Maybe. Either way, they're fun to write :3**

**In other news, over 300 reviews!! I feel intensely loved X3 Also, I am once again plugging my forum. Go check it out? Still not much happening, but it's fun... or it will be.**

**Sorry if this chapter seemed rushed, but I REALLY want to write chapter 30. It has me in squee mode just thinking about it (I've been planning chapter 30 for AGES!!). Hopefully you lot will like it as much as I will love writing it (insert evil laugh here)**

(1) So far, all their dates have kind of... failed. The attempt from chapter 28 didn't even leave Harry's house because of the dueling lessons, the date from chapter 26 ended up being a double date (of sorts – Fleur and Krum are not together) in which Takashi was busy being jealous of Krum, and if you consider their ramen after the trip to the hospital in chapter 22 (feels like forever ago!) a date, that not only started with Takashi being weird, but it sort-of turned into another double date and had Harry upsetting Takashi without knowing why (see omake).

(2) Harry inserts a comment here: "That's because I didn't know he was selling them to the Prophet until after fourth year."

(3) In Ouran fangirls routinely turn into Medusa and go on rampages and such... so yeah. Takashi knows the fear that Harry is experiencing.

(4) The rings I gave each Marauder are actually birthstones. Sirius has Amethyst – February (I dunno when his birthday actually is, so I said February) – James had Garnet – January, he wanted Lily's birthstone and he shares birth month with Remus – Peter has Pink Tourmaline – October (again, I dunno when his birthday is so I made one up) – and Remus got Aquamarine – for March. Harry merely thought that his ring was Ruby – the birthstone for July – but he never actually asked and he isn't familiar with precious stones.

(5) Poor ramen... it shall be missed T-T

(6) It just occurred to me that Satoshi is very much like Rock Lee. How... disturbing.

_Omake #3: Takes place December 29, 2006, during Harry's third dancing lesson with Takashi (Chapter 22)(Ridiculously long... and it has footnotes… wow)_

Takashi tilted Harry's chin up for the seventeenth (a) time that day. The smaller boy was actually doing amazingly well for someone who, according to Kaoru (who reportedly got his information from Harry himself), had only danced once in his entire life and had ended up being led by the girl he was dancing with. When he had been told this, Takashi had known that it had to change, and soon, which made the offer by Kaoru to have _him_ be the one teach Harry all the sweeter to his ears. Of course, he would have accepted even without the knowledge of how desperately needed the lessons were.

The idea of someone else being that close to Harry made Takashi agitated, and he was certainly man enough to know why. He had experienced jealousy a few times in his life, enough to know what it felt like, and Takashi knew that this agitation, the instant vitriol that he knew he would feel about anyone who was in the same situation with Harry. The feeling completely dwarfed the jealousy that he had felt the times that Harry had helped Mitsukuni when he could not.

And, of course, Harry called him "Takashi-sensei" during the lessons, which made it all the better. Even with the more formal suffix of "sensei" rather than "senpai", Takashi felt closer to Harry by having his given name uttered in place of his family name or the "cutesy" version that had been made up for the Host Club to fit him better with Mitsukuni (though how that actually affected anything...).

Back on track though, Harry was, after only a three lessons (although the second lesson was quite long and this third lesson was already going on three hours), quite decent at the waltz. He had the proper timing, he had the reflexes to fix anything he did mess up, and within the first half-hour of practice the first day he had figured out the spacing for his feet to keep from stepping on Takashi's own. That sporting-thing – Quidditch, Takashi thought it was called – had obviously helped Harry in ways that could be applied to more everyday things.

The music from the grand piano in the corner tapered off – it had been quite a shock to find that it was a self-playing piano – and Takashi took care to lift his hand up rather than let it fall and drift down – that would hardly be appropriate after all – as they released one another from the waltzing form. It was as the wizard rubbed at his neck and asked for Tipsy (b) to bring him something to ease the strained muscles that Takashi thought of something that, had he not just thought of it himself, he might have thought Mitsukuni thought it up. Which was impossible of course, considering Mitsukuni hadn't even come with him this time.

While Harry's back was to Takashi, thanking his elf for bringing them hot chocolate, the Wild Type Host quickly recalled what he knew of how sleepy people acted. He could never remember what he was like when he was sleepy – anytime after nine-thirty was a blur unless he was particularly stressed at the time, and he recalled waking up once in July at the Club, but he simply couldn't recall anything prior to sleep – so he drew on what he knew of other people. Particularly the way his brother would become a bit solitary, Mitsukuni became snappish, his own parents became a bit _strange_ (not something he wanted to think about, thank you very much), and he recalled Harry just drifting off quietly.

Mimicking Mitsukuni was knocked off the list immediately as Takashi rubbed at his eye with the palm of his hand. That wouldn't do him any good.

Besides, what better way to find out if Harry liked him than by pretending to sleep in that same boy's presence? People often said things when they thought there was no one to hear them, or so Takashi had observed (being so often compared to furniture, he knew how to blend in, intentionally or not, and often heard things no one meant to be heard). Anyone would have to admit that some of the signs that Harry had given off were those more associated with a feeling of attraction than camaraderie. Feigned agitation would get him nowhere in discovering if the signs were something or mere coincidence.

So instead of copying his cousin, Takashi collapsed in a controlled manner on the couch that the tray with the hot chocolate had been placed in front of and grabbed a mug for himself. Harry sat with about a foot between them, seemingly lost on his own thoughts. So Takashi stepped it up a bit and allowed his head to bob in false weariness before seeming to come to a more full alertness and drinking some of the cocoa. Whatever potion had been placed in the beverages to help with Harry's neck certainly helped slacken Takashi's shoulders.

The seemingly uncontrolled motion had caught Harry's attention.

"You look tired," the young wizard observed, his own hot chocolate forgotten on the table. So Takashi's acting wasn't _that_ bad. Good to know. "Maybe you should call your car? I'm sorry if I've kept you." Takashi quickly grasped the emotion behind those words. Guilt – though what Harry had to be guilty for, when Takashi was merely helping his friend learn to dance, was beyond him – and concern were both prominent.

"Hn," Takashi shook his head slightly, grateful for the potion that had loosened his muscles as it made his head flop a bit in a way that he was sure was normally impossible given how well he controlled himself. Though the fact that Tipsy had spiked both of their drinks _was_ a bit annoying, Takashi could live with that. He took another sip.

"Fine," Harry sounded a bit resigned, "but you'll at least rest for a while. If you aren't lively in half an hour, I'm sending you home regardless, got that? You've got to take better care of yourself, Senpai." Takashi deflated slightly and nodded, his neck a bit more stiff than it had been. Back to "senpai", then... he faked a yawn and reclined on the couch, chin on his chest, to think.

Not paying attention to anything but his thoughts, and being as absorbed in them as he was (mostly reconsidering the "devious plot" he had hatched up and wondering just _why_ he had gone ahead with it to begin with), Takashi wasn't terribly inclined to pay any attention to external stimuli. His breathing was even, and he contemplated the darkness behind his eyelids with little else going on.

He did, however, notice when Harry got off the couch and left the room. Takashi tried to see around the doorway to get a good look at what Harry was doing but had to return to his previous position – or as close as he could get – when Harry's footsteps sounded again. He returned hardly a minute later with... a pillow and blanket? Takashi closed his eyes again quickly. Surely... surely he was seeing things. That had to be it.

Both the blanket and the pillow were reality though. Harry thought that Takashi was asleep, obviously, and Takashi expected to be moved by some magic. Actually, now that he thought of it, he hadn't seen Harry cast any spells on any of the lesson days, having even asked Charlie – the man who had been teaching Mitsukuni about dragons – to summon something for him that Takashi knew he could summon on his own. But this was not the time to think of that, as Harry had sat down at just the right spot on the other end of the couch...

Takashi wasn't the best student of math and physics and the like - that was Mitsukuni's position - but he was good at them, and he could see that Harry really was in the best place for... well, to be a pillow. Which he happened to have in his lap. A small, involuntary twitch of Takashi's left calf gave him and idea and he created a slightly larger twitch that would be visible.

And he faked falling over.

It wasn't too hard, and even though his legs were in a bit of an uncomfortable position – it was livable anyway – Takashi found that he was generally quite comfortable. After about thirty additional seconds in which Harry shifted a bit, presumably to make himself more comfortable, Takashi found the blanket Harry had brought on tossed over his own torso. It was a very nice gesture.

That was about when Takashi started feeling a little tired and – the last sensation he recalled being his legs going a bit numb and something soft beneath his head – he blanked out, though for how long he wasn't sure.

Suddenly he was awake again, and a few somethings – fingers – were threaded through his short, spiky hair. Takashi couldn't feel his legs; they were essentially rubber, and he had no clue where he was. His usual routine of sitting straight up from bed didn't work out as planned when the top of his head connected with something hard and, despite seeing a few spots, he knew pretty quickly that he was not the worse off from the situation.

The spray of blood that was not his own made that quite apparent.

In came back to him even as Harry let out a strangled cry and curled his arms around his face, sleeve pressed firmly to his profusely bleeding tongue. Takashi's eyes widened in horror when he realized just what had happened. He had hurt Harry. _He_, Morinozuka Takashi, had _hurt Harry_. And all he could do was gape.

Harry had sprinted across the room to the fireplace, leaving a small trail of blood behind him, looking over a piece of paper that was tacked onto it. Takashi wasted no time in following, even though his legs wobbled beneath him and he had no idea how to help or even if he could. That was answered for him when Harry threw a handful of green powder in the merrily crackling flames and suddenly dragging Takashi _into the fire_ behind him, the flames hissing warningly at the blood dripping on them at a steady rate.

Though why the paper was being pressed into his hands and one particular name being pointed at – a hospital it seemed – was beyond Takashi, when he stated the name of the hospital he found himself being essentially hugged onto by Harry. He was also spinning very quickly.

In less than a minute – though this was long enough for him to be able to feel the heat and wet of Harry's blood soaked through the chest-portion of his shirt and it stuck to him – Harry was suddenly dragging him _out_ of the fire, and it was by sheer luck that he managed to not fall over with his legs only just getting into the pins-and-needle stage of sleep. But he could ignore that for Harry.

While he was glad to learn that all of the damage done was quite easily reparable – it only took the doctor (Healer?) about five minutes to fix – Takashi could not get past the fact that the entire incident was all his fault. If he hadn't had that stupid idea, if he hadn't made Harry think he was tired, if he hadn't feigned sleep, if he hadn't fallen over, if he hadn't _actually_ fallen asleep, if he had taken the time to assess the situation before sitting up, if _if_ IF!

No matter how it was put, it was all Takashi's fault that Harry had to get his tongue fixed (though he was quite glad that Harry's tongue was fine after a few spells from the healer (c)) and his blood replenished and that both of their shirts were now ruined by blood. Harry seemed to bear him no ill will, but he didn't know what Takashi had done.

The fact that he managed to pay for the medical treatment was a small bit of repentance, and Takashi was intent on making the incident right.

He deserved far more anger than Harry bore for him paying the bill (he didn't understand. If he knew what Takashi had done, he would be far quicker to disavow him, surely), and each comment about it _not being his fault_ nearly made Takashi flinch. He really ought to tell, he ought to say that this entire thing was his fault, but he couldn't.

Takashi felt like such a coward.

Tipsy was called in the elevator and was horrified to see them both covered in blood. Takashi wilted further, though to anyone who saw him it would be more that he drew himself up and squared his shoulders, knowing that his idiocy had made someone else worried. Harry's offer to lend him a sweater – though what Harry had that could fit Takashi considering the differences in their sizes was completely unknown – made him feel even worse. Harry probably took it as lamenting the loss of the sweater he had worn that day or something.

He was surprised at the sweater Tipsy brought for him. It was just about the right size for him - a bit long and a little too small around the shoulders, but the right size none the less - and nearly the same shade of emerald as Harry's eyes. Takashi could tell that it was hand knit, not machine made, and with great care. A small white snitch was sewn on the left breast - he recalled Harry's explanation of Quidditch and the little winged ball that had been on Harry's "ride a seeker" shirt - and overall it was a very nice sweater, probably a gift from someone who hadn't seen Harry in a while if the size was anything to go on.

And Harry was letting him wear what was likely a rather precious gift. Takashi felt like an ass.

They were both cleaned up using some weird wash cloths that seemed to completely dispose of the blood (they both still had a few splatters on their pants, but there was nothing to be done about them) and got dressed properly. He tried to keep his eyes averted throughout the process, but didn't succeed. No matter how much he punished himself, Takashi couldn't not look. Sure, he'd seen Harry topless before (only twice), but that had been months ago. It was only further proof that Harry felt absolutely nothing towards Takashi for not allowing his own eyes to wander. His self-control was certainly not so great as Takashi's, so it was obvious that such things were quite far from Harry's mind.

Takashi didn't like the idea of going to dinner with Harry – well, he _did_, a lot actually, but he didn't like that Harry seemed to be taking the opportunity to pay him back for the medical bill (not only was it Takashi's duty to do so, but even if it did merit repayment, Tipsy was fixing his sweater which had easily cost twice as much as the medical bill to begin with).

Takashi knew precisely where they were as soon as they exited the building that housed the magical hospital. In fact, this was a place where he and Satoshi commonly requested to be dropped off when Satoshi wanted to go have "the best ramen in Tokyo" (which was true, a surprise given Satoshi's... lack of taste buds). Takashi wanted to decline – he certainly didn't deserve to spend any more time with Harry after such a betrayal! – and yet the adamant and almost hopeful glint to the younger's eyes made him reconsider. He just... Takashi couldn't hurt Harry to hurt himself. Something in him rebelled more strongly to the idea of Harry sad or in pain than even the same thoughts of Mitsukuni. It was the same reason he couldn't tell Harry about his... other feelings; of the Hosts, Takashi was Harry's closest friend, and Takashi wasn't going to ruin that.

The worst part was that Harry was completely oblivious. Takashi supposed it was a _good_ thing that he didn't have Takashi's training in reading the body and body language, or else he would have noticed something long before. His own body language was how Takashi discovered his growing affection for the emerald eyed youth.

There had been plenty of instances later that Takashi could pinpoint, much as it pained him to admit it. Mitsukuni had noticed sometime in October, most likely during the summer festival (the fact that commoners went along with the Ouran seasonal changes was really quite amusing), and had been bothering Takashi about it ever since Harry's initial attempt to reinstate the distance between himself and the Hosts just before the sports festival, no matter how badly that had failed.

"Is ramen okay with you?" Takashi snapped out of his thoughts immediately. They were in front of the ramen shop that he and Satoshi frequented; it was no wonder he managed to not pay attention to his surroundings the entire walk given how familiar he was the path from there to the shop. "It was the first thing I thought of when the healer said 'not too solid', but if you want something else I'll be happy to oblige."

It was obvious that Harry wanted ramen – the scents wafting from inside were making Takashi want some as well, even though he hadn't been the least bit hungry a moment ago – and Takashi wouldn't stop him. So he nodded, making sure that none of his unease bled into his posture. It wouldn't do to make Harry think that he was going along for the his sake.

They were ushered in by the notoriously pesky waitress – a young woman by the name of Matsuoka Hikari if Takashi remembered correctly – who was not only a gossip, but a shameless flirt. Takashi paid her no mind, though he did note Harry's comment about the miracle cures. Harry's explanation about his love of anonymity, a luxury that he had apparently not had since entering the magical world, did make sense. Takashi already knew it, having noticed many times how Harry tried not to be the center of attention unless he was protecting someone else through it.

He didn't even bother dwelling on the fact that Harry's usual – the fact that he _had_ a usual was strange since it was a small establishment that was not widely known – was the same as his own. He was too busy thinking of the all-too-visible bruising on Harry's chin. Conversation was pretty much nonexistent after that point, not that it was unusual. Still, Takashi suspected that Harry could tell that it was not the usual silence that pervaded any room that Takashi was in.

Only seconds after he had started on his ramen, Takashi caught sight of a head of bright-red hair that could belong to only one person: Kasanoda Ritsu, his "disciple". And beside him was Haruhi. Takashi was going to nudge Harry to let him know, but Haruhi noticed them and waved from the door.

"Harry-kun! Mori-senpai!" She called with a small smile. She had already grabbed Kasanoda's hand and was dragging him behind her to their table, which caused the yakuza heir to turn a shade of red that could rival some of Harry's brighter shades. Meanwhile, Harry choked slightly on his ramen and whirled about in his seat. Takashi nodded his acknowledgment as Harry greeted them and the pair took the empty seats at the table.

Takashi didn't pay them much mind as they talked with Harry. He was brooding. Though he nearly did a spit-take when Harry asked if Haruhi and Kasanoda were on a date and Haruhi claimed that they were no more on a date than Harry and Takashi. Normally he wouldn't have even been fazed by Haruhi's oblivious comment. However, considering her behavior Takashi had a feeling that they really were on a date, formal or no, and that she though that he and Harry...

Taking a deep drink of the broth from his bowl, Takashi managed to hide the small blush that tinged his cheeks a pale red. The blush was quick to fade as Kasanoda endeavored to change the topic and asked about Harry's bruise. Takashi's shoulder's stiffened involuntarily, but Harry simply gave the same "it was an accident, I was at fault, I'll deal with it when I get home" spiel that he had given before.

Each such comment was like a barb stabbing Takashi in the back of his head.

It wasn't until Harry asked something of Kasanoda during a lull in conversation that Takashi realized just how much words could hurt.

"Why did you become Mori-senpai's disciple, anyway?" Harry asked Kasanoda with that innocent tone of his. As if he were talking about the weather. That sounded like a much safer topic actually, but Harry continued along the same vein. "I've been wondering for a while, but honestly I just don't see it."

That was worse than the little guilt stabs. So Harry didn't see him as someone worthy of looking up to. Harry didn't see him as someone who could be considered a good role model to someone. Sure, Takashi hadn't liked Kasanoda's reasons back in September, but suddenly the idea of hearing just why he had been picked, and in front of Harry no less, made him feel a bit sick.

"Bathroom," he muttered under his breath, quickly fleeing the table.

Oh yes, if he had needed any further proof that Harry saw him as nothing but a friend, that was all the evidence he needed. Takashi sighed, leaning on the counter of the small bathroom in the back of the shop. Not that he'd had much hope to begin with, but it still hurt to have those small hopes dashed so ruthlessly by Harry's innocent and oblivious comment.

Was this what his fangirls felt when he turned them down? If so, he would have to find a better way to do it; the experience was more than a little painful.

**Kyaa! Poor emo Takashi (cries) luckily he gets Harry-luvin' within the week, but still D':**

**Omake are usually stupid little things that make no sense... and yet here I am writing an entire scene – a long one at that – just as I normally would and calling it by the same name. Maybe I should rename these segments before I've written too many? But, uh... I don't think I'll write an "omake" this long ever again. It inflates the chapter-size way too much and it took FOREVER to write.**

(a) In chapter 22 Harry thought it was fifteen. Trust Takashi to actually keep track though (lol).

(b) There will be a different omake at some point to encompass the "Takashi and Hani find out about house-elves and Takashi is afraid of bees" incident eventually. Probably.

(c) Another reference to Harry's thoughts in chapter 22. Sorry. :P


	30. Chapter 30

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64. The end scene might be a little rushed, and there is yet another really long omake.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

_Just a personal note: I'm not sure why, but for some reason my readers seem to think I'm a guy... I'm a GIRL! Not entirely sure what would have given the impression otherwise (perhaps the fact that I seem to write only from the male perspective?), but... yeah. All female. I have boobs and lack equipment downstairs. Promise._

_Another note: Would have posted earlier, but my dad said I couldn't use the internet because of the security breach with Microsoft._

Chapter 30

Harry fidgeted nervously on the drive over to the Morinozuka Compound. It was a twenty minute drive from him home, and Harry was quite nervous about meeting Takashi's parents. It probably wouldn't have even occurred to him that he was "meeting the parents" and ought to make a good impression if Sirius hadn't mentioned it the night before. Not for the first time that day, he was damning Sirius for mentioning that at all. Now that he was nervous about it, he would probably botch it all to hell.

He was going to arrive roughly half an hour after Takashi and Satoshi were due home after their various after school activities. Having left school earlier than usual to let the Master Herbologist in to the green houses – usually this occurred during the weekend, but the Herbologist had other things to do – he had also taken care to change into something nice (but not too nice or they might think he was trying too hard... but what if he wasn't trying hard enough?) and pick up the wine he was going to give to Takashi's parents as a "thank you for letting me into your house and please don't hate me!" gift. Considering it was one of the most sought after elf-made wines in the world – a Zabini red from 1984 – and Harry had had to pull in three favors and owed one to Blaise Zabini, he felt it ought to be worth it.

Hopefully. The fact that the family probably wouldn't recognize the vineyard or anything was a bit worrisome, but it was guaranteed to be better than any wine that muggles could get a hold of.

The car pulled up in front of the Morinozuka Compound at seven o'clock on the dot. While Hanazaka wished Harry good luck with a snicker, the young wizard was trying very hard not to panic. He might have even taken a calming draught, except then he might seem like druggy and he really shouldn't be doped when he met Takashi's parents. Before he even realized it, the car was gone and Harry had buzzed in at the front gate of the compound. The small gray box looked terribly out of place on the traditional gateway.

"Potter Harry here, I was invited by Takashi," he informed the little box. It crackled to life a moment later with a buzz as the gate opened. Takashi himself was standing just on the other side, looking significantly less fidgety than Harry. As a matter of fact, he didn't look the slightest bit nervous. Takashi was completely confident and even happy instead. It was all Harry could do to manage a shaky smile before making his way over to his boyfriend.

"Ready?" Takashi's low tone washed over Harry when he reached the older boy's side.

Harry snorted, "Do I have a choice at this point?" At Takashi's answering shrug, Harry sighed and for the millionth time checked that the wine was still in the silk bag inside of his school bag. Considering the initial reason for the visit was to study muggle Geography – it was difficult to remember that even though muggles could go some places, they didn't _know_ about them – it was rather necessary.

Besides, dinner wasn't going to be until seven-thirty (or so Takashi had informed him during their sole alone moment during the day); he might have calmed down a smidge by then, right? If not, he did have his standard first-aid pack in the flap of his bag, per usual.

The way to the front door seemed a mile, though it was hardly twenty steps. Despite how his nerves were spiking _for no good reason_, Harry couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of the traditional style home. The only other such house that Harry had seen was Kasanoda's, and he had been a bit worried about being kidnapped at the time. As it was, Harry was certain that the home of a family like the Morinozuka was far more entrancing than that of any yakuza.

For a moment, he lamented deciding to have his mansion done in the Western style. The Japanese home seemed far more open and aesthetically pleasing than any Western style he had yet been to, and he had only seen the front garden. If the entire place was this calming...

Well, he could certainly see the appeal to living in such a home.

In that "mile" Harry did get a good look at the garden under the low lights of the electric lanterns set up to light the path under the dusky sky. With the waning gibbous moon hanging high above, the glow seemed to wash the entire area. So it was with some small surprise that Harry noted Takashi leading him onto the low porch and opening the sliding door. (1)

The change from moon light to electric was sudden and notable, though Harry decided that the home did the garden justice. It was neat, elegant, and even though Harry couldn't see the sky he felt like he was in a large room rather than the moderately sized entryway.

That did not, however, mean that his nerves had vanished. They had just... been a bit toned down. Maybe it was like public speaking; thinking about it before hand left Harry nervous and fidgety and sure that the world was about to end, but when he actually got to it the nerves seeped away. Provided he wasn't stuck indoors.

Takashi's parents (plus Satoshi) were all standing in the room when Takashi led Harry in. Takashi's father – Morinozuka Hitoshi (2) (Takashi had told Harry the names of his parents earlier) – looked similar to his sons. The same tan complexion, and his stature was certainly reflected in both of the Morinozuka boys. It was, however, his eyes that Harry most associated with Takashi; the slate gray irises that looked cold at first glance were deceptively expressive.

On the other hand, Takashi's mother – Morinozuka (once Wada) Hotaru (3) – while a tall woman compared to most in Japan, was rather petite. Her hair, cropped shorter than the norm, was a bit unruly and the shape of her face matched both boys to a t. The minute smile on her face made it obvious that, at the very least, she was genuine to an extent about welcoming Harry into her home (in his nervousness, Harry could not allow himself to think anything completely genuine, though the smile did put him further at ease).

They bowed to Harry, welcoming him to their home, and Harry bowed back, making sure to bow lower. He may not be an expert on etiquette in Japanese culture, but he did know _some_ things. He was also smart enough to take off his shoes and accept the weird slipper-thingies that Takashi offered him. Still, Harry was positive he would screw _something_ up very badly.

"Dinner will be ready in half an hour," stated Takashi's mother in a sort of serene voice that Harry had rather expected. "Takashi can show you around the house until then, if you will excuse our remissness as hosts."

Harry smiled at the woman. Merlin, she really made him feel less nervous! "It's very hospitable of you, Morinozuka-sama," he stated. Really, in his opinion it was. Though he couldn't take the blame for this one – Takashi had invited him, not the other way around – but he could certainly be the best guest possible for his stay. "I've only seen the garden and this room so far, but I can tell it's a beautiful place already."

Considering he could stand to be in the entryway – intellectually he knew it was considerably smaller than the large rooms of his own home – without freaking out, he could tell it was also very calm. Which was a strange notion, to be sure, as Harry had never really thought of a place as "calm". (Except perhaps the rock gardens in Kyoto.)

Hotaru took her leave, bringing her husband with her (he seemed as silent as Takashi and gave his farewell with a mere nod, though not what could be considered a "cold" nod on Harry's Takashi-scale). Satoshi sent Harry and Takashi a grin before trotting down the opposite hall, all sense of decorum he had previously shown very much lost.

The side of Harry's mouth twitched into what could be considered a genuine smile of nervous relief. "So…" he cast his gaze to Takashi who was standing at his side, just as completely-not-nervous as before.

"Let's go," Takashi responded and, with his hand on the small of Harry's back, directed him to the hallway that Satoshi had run off down. Even though the hall was only a few feet wide and there weren't any windows, Harry still didn't feel the walls closing in on him. He still got that feeling in some of the rooms at Ouran! Maybe it was the combination of nervous tension with his usual claustrophobia, or perhaps Harry had gotten over it some… but no, he had freaked out when Sirius dragged him into the walk in closet to pick out something for his own date. Then again, he had heard of some people freaking out less about enclosed spaces with other people due to the moral support, and the key to Harry's experiences with small rooms was solitude.

There was probably some real reason for it, but whatever that was, Harry didn't know.

The tour wasn't exactly a long one – Takashi didn't show him the entire compound as it was rather sprawling and a good portion of it was outdoors – but all of the indoor areas were lovely. The meditation room especially caught Harry's attention, though not for the usual reasons.

"Someone in your family must have been magical," he stated firmly, not ten seconds after they had entered the room. Takashi turned a curious eye on Harry, which caused him to elaborate. "There's a notice-me-not ward geared at muggles that's hiding a good third of the room. Come on, I'll show you." Harry had grabbed Takashi's arm and was walking toward what – to him – was an open area and to Takashi was a wall, and a solid one at that.

From Sirius, Harry had learned several useful things about wards (though he had no skill in them, it was still nice to know). For example, the barrier at King's Cross had a notice-me-not barrier that, while it fooled the eyes of muggle and magical folk alike, it was penetrable by those with enough magic in their blood. As it turned out, a notice-me-not could not stop someone with a certain amount of magic at their disposal from crossing, though all notice-me-nots repelled muggles, or when imitating a wall it would act like one.

Unless they were physically connected someone, like how Harry just so happened to have Takashi's hand in his. Even when he felt Takashi resisting, Harry simply took the extra step so that he was through the illusion and looked to be halfway through the "wall".

The look on his boyfriend's face was priceless, and not for the first time Harry wished that he had a pensive. Damned things cost an arm and a leg though (literally), which he wasn't quite ready to give up or find a "donor" for, thank you very much. Apparently the rest of the Potter genealogy had felt the same as, despite their wealth, there was not a Potter Family Pensive, and anyone who had a pensive wouldn't dream of selling it.

In Takashi's surprise, he did stop resisting, and Harry managed to tug him through the false section, showing the missing section of the room. It wasn't a large addition, less than one hundred square feet but more than seventy by Harry's estimation (a very vague guess all things considered). There wasn't much dust either, but considering there were spells that eliminated dust on contact it wasn't too much of a surprise. What really caught Harry's attention and had alerted him to something being off with the room were the objects in this section where the public part was completely bare.

First of all, there were quite a few bookshelves lining the walls, obviously a layered come-to-call model with at least three rows back which meant it had been placed in the past century. Before the Second World War, layered bookshelves hadn't even existed (4). An ink painting depicting a Chinese Fireball was hanging on the other wall, and directly in the center was a pot of incense that released smoke, but no scent.

It was this last thing that really surprised Harry. Meditation incense – which, as the name stated, was used as a meditation device and encouraged deep thought – was rare and while one stick could burn for fifty years, sometimes as many as seventy, it was obvious that this had been replaced recently. Within the past ten or twenty years at least. Harry supposed that getting dragged around the country by Sirius all throughout March the previous year had to have been somewhat educational.

The simple conclusion was that some close relative of Takashi's was magical _now_, or had been in the past generation, and Harry informed him of the conclusion. If Takashi could have been any more surprised... well, let's just say that Harry _really_ wanted a pensive now.

"Since you've passed through the ward you should be able to again without my help from now on..." Harry murmured, glancing around, his eyes alighting on the book shelves again and noting the variety of subjects. "Let's continue the tour after we've made sure though, okay?" If they spent too long in one room, even if they _weren't_ being watched, there was no reason that they wouldn't be suspected of doing something untoward, which again made Harry all too aware that he had literally just met the parents and that they were – depending on how aware they were of his and Takashi's relationship – judging his every action.

They left the warded section, and after Takashi had stuck his arm through the "wall" to make sure he could get back in, which he could, they left and continued the tour... until they got to Takashi's room.

There was no real preamble beyond Takashi ignoring all the other doors in that section of the house and sliding open the door. It was a nice bedroom, almost as big as Harry's though not quite so spacious up top and it didn't feel as open. A large picture window hung on the side of the room opposite the bed. In the center sat a kotatsu (and even Harry knew it was strange for someone to have a kotatsu in their bedroom) though it was obviously set up as a study table if the nearby bookshelf and the scattered class materials on the table.

Takashi had taken Harry's bag – which he had become mostly unaware of by that point – and set it by the kotatsu as he continued to look around. A sudden peeping noise from his feet caught Harry's attention. A small chick (strange that it should still be a chick when Takashi had been raising the creature for months) was about a foot in front of him, and a tanuki just behind that. Harry blinked for a moment before slowly sinking to his knees before the animals – he remembered they were named Piyo and Pome – and giving them a bow.

Harry had only really encountered a few animals in his life in potentially nonlethal circumstances. Ripper, who didn't like him because Ripper was an ornery beast, Fang, who liked anyone, Fluffy, who was hungry and told to attack everyone, Hedwig, who had become his first friend, and Buckbeak. Of the ones that had never attacked him, he had learned that respect was the best way to deal with any creature, and he figured that a bow was appropriate with Piyo and Pome as it had been with Buckbeak.

They seemed to agree as Harry soon found himself with a lap full of tanuki and a chick hopping into his hands. The fact that he was barely inside the door was ignored as Harry gave both Piyo and Pome plenty of attention, not the least bit nervous about handling them. Confidence and respect were the way to treat animals (unless they were wild deer, Sirius had once explained that looking at them made them flee, so it was best to look vulnerable and avert one's gaze).

"Piyo-chan, you should meet Hedwig sometime," Harry informed the bird. "She'd adore you, I'm sure. She hasn't got any chicks of her own, but she has a mothering nature. I should know. I'm afraid I don't know how owls get along with tanuki, Pome-chan, but I'm sure she would behave even if your kind don't get along well. And you aren't the typical tanuki, are you, repaying Takashi with yams." Harry grinned and took care to scratch the tanuki behind the ears as Piyo hopped from his hands to his shoulder to eat his hair (5).

After another moment, Harry became aware of Takashi's presence, and he noted the amused expression the older boy's face. There was no doubt that Takashi had noted his nervousness. Harry wondered if he should still _be_ nervous, but suddenly he couldn't bring himself to be. It was likely some mix of a nervous overload, the meditation incense, and the animals that he was currently showering attention over.

The fact that Takashi's parents hadn't been glaring at him or anything equally intimidating probably helped.

"We should head to the dining room," Takashi informed Harry as he leaned down to scratch the tanuki in Harry's lap. The more vertically challenged of the pair (even if he wasn't _that_ short anymore) nodded slightly, not enough to dislodge the small bird that was still nipping at his already messy hair. "Studying can come after dinner."

Harry hummed in the back of his throat (such a switch, to have Harry be the one who wasn't saying much and Takashi speaking more than necessary) before carefully reaching up and removing Piyo from his shoulder (and thus hair). He'd never really taken note of it before, but now he was glad that birds didn't salivate. It was one thing to have Hedwig preen him or nip at his ear – it was an entirely different matter to have to worry about having saliva in his hair.

They made their way to the dining room (had half an hour really passed on that small tour?) where the rest of the Morinozuka family – Takashi's immediate family anyway – were already sitting. The table itself was empty, and it seemed that they had come in as Satoshi was describing his school day.

" – And then when I went to the Host Club to get Taka-nii, Chika-kun got in another fight with Mitsukuni right in the middle of the Club!" Satoshi spouted off. Harry had grown used to seeing Hani and Yasuchika sparring in the middle of the day, but he couldn't recall it ever happening _during_ club hours before. Then again, Yasuchika never really came by during that part of the day because he had the middle school level karate club to manage. "He tried to pull off the maneuver from yesterday that broke his nose but Mitsukuni threw a kunai in front of his feet that made him trip and he ended up breaking his nose again. Takashi and I were going to go with them to make sure Chika was okay, but Mitsukuni said he could take care of it. It's kinda weird to think of Mitsukuni doing things like that without Taka-nii though, you know?"

Hitoshi nodded some to his son's exclamation, though his eyes had immediately sought out Takashi and Harry as they entered the room. A subtle movement of Takashi's hand indicated where Harry should sit – though he knew that the family would catch it, they seemed surprised that he had – before taking his own seat. The cooks entered before anything could be said.

It was an impressive spread – not that Harry could have expected anything less – and he made note to thank the cooks and the Morinozuka matriarch and patriarch for the meal. Whether it was tradition or not, Harry tended to be a very thankful person. The cooks only smiled at him briefly before going back to the kitchen while Hotaru and Hitoshi took the praise easily. Again, not that Harry could have expected any less.

There wasn't really a lot of conversation – it was apparent that Takashi gained his quiet nature from his father – though Satoshi was a chatterbox per usual. When he brought up the lack of ramen shop again, Harry was pleased to say that Sirius had already talked to the contractor and the owner of the shop; it would be back up and running before the end of February. Harry was certain he caught Hotaru rolling her eyes at Satoshi's love of ramen (he thought he recalled Satoshi saying she didn't like him going to the ramen shop), but ignored it.

Halfway through the meal, just about when Harry decided he might not need to be too nervous, he phone let out a resounding "Ping!" Harry excused himself and moved out into the hall and flipped open the phone without bothering to look at the screen as was his custom.

"Mr. Potter, it's Mike Fergusson, from the Medical Company?" The opposite end – the Potter-Evans CEO – started talking in a quick, excited tone, in English no less, that drew Harry in. "It know it must be late where you are – I've only been at work for a couple hours mind you – but you said to call when we had a breakthrough. And did we ever!"

"Hang on," Harry said quickly to cut Fergusson off. "One sentence at a time, okay? What happened?" Harry had asked the Company for plenty of updates, most of them for potions that would cure muggle diseases like Alice In Wonderland Syndrome (6) and getting rights to certain potions. Whatever this breakthrough was had to be big though. He wasn't even going to bother telling the man to not call him Mr. Potter.

"Right, sorry sir," the sheepish tone persisted only for those words before Fergusson plowed right back into it, if a bit slower. "You know, of course, that we've been fighting the Ministry ever since your mother set up Potter-Evans back before you were born about being allowed to market the more scientifically improbable potions. You'll never believe this – it was surreal enough when they gave us the rights to that Skele-Gro cavity-cure and even the cut cream – but we've got Pepper-Up!"

Harry stood up all the straighter, eyes wide as he gripped the phone tightly. _Pepper-Up_! They had Pepper-up! Since it was one of the first potions that remained recorded from before the Crusades and the Dark Ages, the individual rights had been lost with the family who invented it and it was a household potion. Technically, anyone could brew it, but if Potter-Evans now had a license to not only mass-produce it, but sell it to muggles... A goofy sort of grin split Harry's face right in half.

"Send the documentation to the Tokyo office pronto and I'll start cutting a deal to get Ootori providing Pepper-Up, got it?" Harry spat quickly across the line, mind racing. "Get a solicitor here tomorrow evening – my time, not yours – and call Yoshio Ootori to set up a meeting for Saturday or Sunday; tell him it's a big deal, the kind that could make or break his company. Then get the other muggle liaisons in meetings this weekend. If we rush, we can have the deals filed on the first of February. Have the brewers start mass-producing this afternoon. If we can get this off the ground before the Confederation can reconsider, then we'll be golden."

"Yes sir, Mr. Potter!" Fergusson spouted. "Can you –"

"Give me three hours and I'll be free," Harry said quickly, remembering suddenly that he was not at liberty to work on it at the moment. Taking off suddenly would be rude, and Takashi said he would help Harry study just like Harry said he would come over for some geography help; neither were the sort to go back on their word. "Take care of the International work and getting the supplies first. I'll talk to you later."

In just a week – if all went well – Pepper-up would be on the open market. Colds, chills, influenza, pneumonia, hypothermia... they would all be a thing of the past, and the muggle world would be that much closer to the magical. Harry could hardly believe that the International Confederation of Wizards had allowed for something so obviously magical to be marketed to the muggle world, yet it had happened.

Upon reentry to the Morinozuka family's dining room, Harry couldn't – and didn't even try to – keep the face-splitting grin off his face. It was unbelievable and amazing... and suddenly he simply couldn't be nervous anymore.

"Sorry about that; it was a terribly important business call," Harry apologized quickly as he reclaimed his seat. "I hope I didn't keep you long?" The call had hardly taken two minutes given the fevered pace both native English speakers had used in their excitement.

"Nah," Satoshi waved it off, completely unaware of any decorum. "What was that call about anyway? You sounded really excited and you were talking about a mile a minute! I'm not that great at English."

If anything, Harry's smile stretched a bit wider. "Aa, it was really good news," he admitted. "My medical company just got the rights to manufacture and distribute a medical potion that cures the cold and a lot of similar illnesses. I got a bit excited about it, I'll admit, since we haven't had this kind of breakthrough in a couple of years."

"A cold cure?" Hitoshi murmured quietly. It seemed that he was also the one who Takashi got his voice from. "You mean a vaccine?" It was certainly more than Harry had expected out of Takashi's father after quickly figuring that he was the silent type. It had reminded him of the first couple of months of his acquaintance to Takashi, but it seemed Hitoshi either was interested in the topic or became more vocal faster than his elder son.

"No, it's not a preventative," Harry shook his head. "It's a curative, and I'm not just talking about getting rid of symptoms. It's one of the Potter-Evans miracle cures. You drink it like it's cough syrup and in the space of a few minutes the potion is absorbed and started killing the viruses. The process also involves generating heat, so it's good for curing pneumonia and hypothermia as well. The only real problem is that for the duration of the potion working, anyone who drinks it has smoke coming out of their ears as the excess heat and dead viruses are expelled."

The disbelieving looks on the Morinozuka family – even Takashi, who knew first hand what medical potions could do – were not wholly unexpected.

After dinner – during which time Harry seemed to have earned some sort of seal of approval from Takashi's parents – he was led back to Takashi's room where he was ready to get to studying for the next couple hours before Hanazaka came to pick him up. There was a full night of preparing a contract to go through after this as well if Harry wanted to meet his own deadline.

He had not been prepared for Takashi's lips to latch onto his neck. As a matter of fact, the idea had never even occurred to Harry – not that he would be asking Takashi to stop anytime soon. His mind was suddenly blank but for the minor thought to cast a one-way silencing charm on the walls and a locking charm on a door.

Whether Takashi approved of the move (or even noticed) was rather suspect as Harry found himself lifted from the ground for about five seconds before he was laid on his back with Takashi hovering over him, still working that exact same spot on his neck. It was all the young wizard could do to keep from moaning.

Harry was quite aware that in the relationship, he would be classed as the more submissive of them. The idea was both fitting and foreign; he hated to have someone else controlling him, but he was quite used to it after Dumbledore's manipulations and the Dursleys' bullying. And, for some reason, Harry liked it very much when Takashi did things to him. It was just... Takashi had never actually gotten on top of him before. Pressed him up against a wall once or twice, sure, but Harry had only actually been under the older boy once, and those circumstances had been entirely innocent (7).

Takashi's mouth finally leaving that spot (Harry was certain it would turn out to be a hickey, a thought that caused him to blush) and attaching to Harry's lips wiped out all thought again.

When Harry left that night, he hadn't gotten much studying done, but he had figured out how Takashi knew to "do" things. Not that Takashi knew he knew, but the small stack of yaoi manga under the bed was a bit of a giveaway. (8)

* * *

_Interlude: While Harry was on the phone..._

Hotaru and Hitoshi turned their gazes from the doorway that Harry had just left through to look at Takashi. Hotaru had a thoughtful look on her face while her husband's was set in a way that would seem completely neutral to anyone not used to interpreting the mood of the Morinozuka men; his buccal muscles were tensed just so, as to indicate an imperceptible smile. To any of his family, Hitoshi was secretly amused.

"He seems rather... strange," Hotaru stated after a moment, ignoring the rapid English floating quietly into the room. Takashi barely with held any facial expression. "But a nice boy, certainly. He doesn't know etiquette very well, but he makes up for it with sincerity."

The slight smirk that Takashi had been tempted to show was mirrored on his father's face. "I like him," Hitoshi ground out.

It seemed that was all that needed to be said.

* * *

Nineteen deals had been closed over the last two days of January, the Potter-Evans offices having been working double-overtime on all fronts. Harry had cut down on his study time to orchestrate the deal with the Ootori Company and keep in touch with the Potter-Evans CEO. It was hectic, and the loss of dueling lessons over those days was regrettable, but Harry couldn't help the sense of accomplishment. Also, with his statement for the Company about the release of a cold-cure (the magical world was also informed of the release), Potter-Evans was getting a lot of attention and new deals.

The fact that the magical world was now more concerned with pepper-up being in the hands of muggles – whether positive or negative – was an added bonus as it freed up Harry's actions some. Monday, the first of February – and, coincidentally, the day before Sirius' birthday – brought Harry to school with a gleam in his eyes. At the first opportunity, he set up a date with Takashi for that evening and spent the afternoon studying transfiguration theory.

That was also the night of their first successful date, as it was not interrupted in any way, nor did they happen to accidentally make a double date of it (thankfully). From the first to the twelfth, Harry found himself extremely busy with school, magical study, dueling (he was getting better, thank Merlin!), and Takashi, but that was to be expected. However, given the media that would be generated by Harry and Takashi being sighted together of Valentine's Day, they were spending all of the thirteenth together instead. It was Takashi's suggestion.

At seven-something-or-other pm, they exited the movie theater where they had been watching some action film that was actually quite stupid to make their dinner reservations. Not that they really needed to do a million things, but they decided they might as well enjoy all the date activities at _some_ point. Besides, they had spent the first half of the day doing the cute-couple thing.

"Hanazaka-san, we're ready to be picked up," Harry informed the aforementioned driver via cell phone. The man only hmmed before the line died and Harry rolled his eyes; Hanazaka was either all lip or silent, which was just fine, but the middle-aged muggle certainly had mood swings. "He's probably going to be here soon."

Takashi hmmed to himself and moved ever so slightly closer to Harry who grinned.

A scream from across the street stopped that smile halfway to forming as he whipped around. Traffic had stopped on the opposite side of the street, likely an accident though it would have to be a single-car ordeal. The cars on both sides had stopped within ten seconds and Harry was already running between the cars with Takashi on his heels.

An old man lay on the ground, a Caucasian bum with an unevenly trimmed beard and scraggly gray hair. He had been hit, but whatever injury there was seemed minor. Either way, with people simply gawking at the scene, Harry took it into his own hands (and Takashi's) to get the man off the road and sitting against a wall for a quick bout of first-aid. The old man seemed shocked as Harry hurried to tending his sprains.

This hobo could only be described as ancient, but he seemed in good health regardless of the disorientation. When Harry had forced him to toss back a third potion – a localized pain killer for what had to be a fractured radius – his face suddenly burst into a grin and his bright blue eyes almost twinkled.

"Harry..." scratch that. They definitely twinkled. "Harry!" The craggly voice was stronger and Harry suddenly found his upper arms being held tightly by the old bum he now knew to be Albus Dumbledore. Harry himself was too shocked to even move. "I knew I would find you. Wonderful, wonderful..." Suddenly, one of the hands released him and Dumbledore pulled something from his pocket. "Must be off... yes, it's about time –"

Takashi pulled Dumbledore off of Harry, much to the younger boy's relief... for all of three seconds.

The first second Harry moved to thank Takashi and was going to tug Takashi away with him. In the second second, he saw Dumbledore's eyes widen and the object in his hand – an empty bag of sherbet lemons – seemed to sink in on itself.

Third, a blur of movement stole both Dumbledore and Takashi away from the sidewalk.

**Author's Note: Dumbles is back! You see why I wanted to write this chapter? I've been planning that moment... pretty much forever. I mean it. That was one of the first scenes I thought up (aside from Kyouya going to Remus' house in France, having the twins visit, Harry leaving the apartment (there were loads of ways that could have gone though), and a few of the Mori/Harry moments). Makes a lovely cliffy, no? ((evil grin))**

**Oh come on, I made the twins third generation squib (of a sort; they have muggle levels of magic but they are the grandchildren of a first generation squib, so it still counts); of course I was going to give other Hosts connections to magic! I've said it before (probably), and I'll say it again; the magical world is not so separate from the muggle as they think. Especially the Japanese magical world (they have integrated themselves with muggles a lot more than the Brits).**

**There's more fan art (courtesy of CluelessRomantic and Araceil) on my page! Also, I made a drawing Takashi in his 'Puff uniform (but I'm really not very good at drawing). I got bored and thought up a couple challenges that you lot might want to check out (not HP xovers as those go to my forum --hint hint--). So, go see the pretty profile page, yes?**

**50k reads is yay! This chapter makes 200,000 words that I've posted on this account (holy crap...), and in probably just one more that'll be how many words I have for this story... Wow! I'm catching up to the #1 amount of words slot for Ouran ;-)**

(1) Sorry if I'm rambling, I just really like Japanese style gardens and I can imagine the Morinozuka family to have a really nice one.

(2) Hitoshi means "even-tempered, level", which I found to be good for Takashi's father. Also, it ends in "Shi" like Takashi (praise-worthy) and Satoshi (clear-thinking and wise... I find that amusing). The other options were Katashi (firmness) and Kioshi (quiet) but I like Hitoshi better :)

(3) Hotaru means "firefly". I liked the name is all.

(4) If that doesn't make any sense, it means that each shelf has three rows of books back. This use of the expansion charm was invented during WWII and was put into common use over the next ten years.

(5) My mom has a lot of chicks and chickens (and other poultry), and the chicks really do like to eat hair. Or maybe just the ones she gets. It's not like parrots that try to "preen" you; the chicks actually try to eat the hair. It's funny.

(6) It's a really strange psychological disorder that makes the afflicted think they are shrinking and growing. You could probably find out some information online, but yeah, real disease.

(7) All the way back in chapter 7, when Harry had his panic attack because Takashi stuffed him in a closet for the hide-and-seek game, Takashi had to tackle Harry to make him drink the calming potion.

(8) Sorry, but I had to take into consideration that Takashi has never been in a relationship before. Knowing him, he would want to know what he was getting into and what to do in such a relationship. The only things I could come up with were romance novels and yaoi manga, and this chapter needed a funny/perverted sentence. (Holy hell, there are so many footnotes!)

_Omake #4: takes place on September 19, 2006 (a) (Chapter 12)_

At precisely 6:47 in the morning every Saturday, one Morinozuka Takashi could be found going through his kata. Not that he started at this time – in fact, he usually started right around five-thirty provided Mitsukuni wasn't being too difficult about waking up and the Haninozuka requested he come in to calm the other boy down – but it was simply a guarantee that if one wanted to find Takashi at 6:47 that he would be found training.

Except for this particular Saturday. This Saturday he could be found in a limousine with a barely-awake-enough-to-not-kill-anyone Mitsukuni as they made their way to Haruhi's apartment complex to kidnap her. Of course, when Tamaki had put everyone on the phone for his _wonderful_ idea for an outing (at six a.m), he hadn't used that particular word. But it was what he meant.

Apparently, Kyouya knew of a lake not far out of the city that, curiously enough, ran on the same seasonal cycle as the school. He had made the mistake of mentioning this to Tamaki after Princess Michelle had left and, unfortunately for the rest of the Host Club, their King had decided to plan an outing for them. Not that this was out of the ordinary or anything, as Tamaki tended to plan at least two spontaneous outings per month. Whether anyone else actually went along with him... well, that was always pretty iffy.

This time, Kyouya had actually convinced them to go (odd, considering he was usually as murderous as Mitsukuni upon waking). Takashi wasn't terribly happy about having his morning routine cut short, but he supposed he could make an exception today, much like he always did for the Club and Mitsukuni. He stared outside the window as he often did on drives and let his mind wander over the course of the drive.

Roughly ten minutes later, the limo had pulled up in front of the apartment complex where both Haruhi and Harry lived. It occurred to Takashi to wonder if Harry would enjoy going swimming with them. They had roped him into a club activity only a few times – the Karuizawa trip, having him do their cosplay, and, if it could really be counted, the game of hide-and-seek that led to the discovery of Harry's claustrophobia – and the boy did seem to enjoy their company, when he let himself. Besides, Takashi found him interesting. Over the past weeks, most of the club had stopped trying to interact with the foreigner at all as the revelation of his past made them all a bit nervous, but Takashi felt Harry could do with some social interaction; maybe he would ask Kyouya to invite the raven-haired first year.

Mitsukuni was a bit more awake at this point, not to mention personable. He dragged Takashi out of the car behind him, just as the Rolls Royce bearing the second year Hosts pulled up behind their limo. The twins were already waiting at the front gate.

"What took you so long?" Hikaru and Kaoru asked in unison. "We were about to get Haruhi without you!"

Kyouya's clipped "it's early" was all the answer required to quell the pesky twins. Soon they were walking to Haruhi's apartment en masse, Hani clarifying that Kyouya was going to have cakes sent to the lake – something Tamaki had forgotten about – and the twins conspiring with their "Father/King" (depending on how the Host Family was working at the time) to make Haruhi wear a frilly bikini. Takashi was simply watching the clouds float by that signaled the end of Summer for most of the Northern Hemisphere.

Someone, Takashi didn't really care who, rapped sharply on the door to the Fujioka apartment. There were some muffled noises before a haggard Fujioka Ryoji (aka Ranka) opened the door, scratching slightly at his stubble. Harry's godfather was hanging off of Ranka and waved at the Hosts.

"Morning," Ranka stated with a yawn. The Hosts returned the greeting in their own way, some chipper, some mildly aggravated, and Takashi with a grunt and nod. He ushered them in, and while some of the others found it strange, Takashi wasn't too surprised to find that Haruhi was already awake and was picking up a backpack. Most of the club always seemed to underestimate Kyouya's ability to make Tamaki's plans work, it seemed. Getting Haruhi to come complaint-free either involved a decrease in her debt or a threat to increase it, but she didn't complain.

While the twins fussed over her appearance (something about how she ought to wear a dress and not the boy-clothes Harry had given her), Takashi raised an eyebrow at Sirius. "Harry?" Was all he said, but Sirius seemed to get the message.

"He takes Saturdays as personal days," Sirius was already digging about in his jeans pocket. He pulled out a pair of keys on a key chain in the form of a black dog, sort of like a Labrador but more... bear-ish in proportions. "He'll probably still be asleep. The apartment is the one straight above this one." Takashi nodded and grabbed the keys before exiting, the only person who seemed to notice his exit being Mitsukuni.

When Takashi opened the door to Harry and Sirius' apartment, he found it strangely... lacking in life. As though they never spent any time there, when he knew this wasn't true. The space was small, just the same size as Haruhi's apartment, and Takashi had to wonder how Harry could stand it. The boy had said that he really only went to school, one of the Ootori hospitals in the area, and home. And yet the place was small, surely too small for Harry to be able to manage with his fear, and completely impersonal.

The only personal touch that Takashi really saw were two photographs hanging on the wall near the doorway. All in all, the apartment could only be described as small and unlived in.

With a minute shake of his head, Takashi continued on his way, peeking first into one of the small bedrooms – quickly discerned as not Harry's – and then the other. The dimensions were quite limited compared to what Takashi was accustomed to... yet given Harry's admission to growing up a commoner it seemed to almost fit. Certainly the small amount of mess and the small baubles did. There was a bird stand in the corner of the room, for Harry's owl, and the twin mattress was pressed up under the modest sized window that streamed sunlight into the room.

Harry himself could be found on the last of these. His face was completely buried in a pillow that his arms had been wrapped around, dark hair tousled more than usual. All the blankets save for a sheet that was twisted around his legs had fallen to the floor, leaving the boy's back exposed

Takashi could see two of the scars that Harry bore – a dark purple splotch in his left elbow that he knew was mirrored on the inner elbow and a wide slash on his right shoulder – but other than that everything seemed as regular, flawless skin, though he was a bit thin (not that Takashi didn't already know that, having picked Harry up on a few occasions).

All in all, Harry seemed a regular teenager caught asleep. Honestly, that was the only thing "regular" that Takashi could attribute to him. Which was a good thing really; normal people were boring. Harry was a puzzle; he was interesting.

Roughly ten seconds passed before Takashi took the two small steps that were required to clear the space from the door to Harry's bed and sat lightly on the edge of it so that he could shake the boy awake. He could have remained standing, but that wasn't the brightest idea. First off, if Harry saw a dark figure looming over him, he might freak out. Second, the mattress was only on a box spring on the floor, so the top of the mattress itself didn't even clear Takashi's knees. Leaning over that far was bad for his back.

He reached out a hand and grasped Harry's shoulder, causing the boy in question to squirm slightly, but otherwise no response. So Takashi shook the shoulder slightly. Harry's breath paused for a moment before his head bolted up from the pillow. Half a second more passed before Harry rolled away from Takashi to have his back pressed against the wall below the window.

The senior, however, had his attention caught by Harry's shifting fringe or, more accurately, the scar that sat on Harry's brow. A jagged scar in the shape of a lightning bolt, hardly more than a white line though it stood out starkly against the lightly tanned countenance. It connected at it's very end with an even slimmer, paler scar that seemed to be its own reflection, forming a sort of "v" shape. Harry's hand clapping suddenly over the identifying mark – and showing several crescent-shaped white lines that looked sort of like nail imprints on his forearm – caused Takashi to realize he was staring.

"Mori-senpai, what are you doing in my room?" Harry asked. Well, an explanation was obviously due, given he had barged in uninvited so far as Harry was concerned. Takashi drew his eyes away from the now-hidden scar and instead looked Harry dead in the eye.

"Kidnapping you." It was actually a bit of a funny moment. And, really, it was about as close to what was going on as Takashi would say. Besides, given the choice, would Harry choose to go along with the Hosts? Given Takashi's decision that Harry was protecting _them_ from something – perhaps himself – it wasn't likely.

Harry gave one long blink to the senior who was sitting on his bed before kicking the sheet off of his legs and sliding off the end of the bed. And Takashi found himself staring again.

Given the articles that Kyouya had shown the Hosts a month before – the same articles that made the rest of the Club jittery around the teen, though Takashi found them to be but another piece to the puzzle of Harry Potter and had finally convinced Mitsukuni to be normal again when Harry got hit with a roof tile – he had almost found himself to be expecting more scars. Yet Harry's chest and back were completely smooth. The only scars that Takashi could see were the blotchy-purple one (oddly, it appeared as though something had gone straight _through_ Harry's elbow), a thin line on his left fore-arm, the wide scratch on his shoulder, the crescent marks that were so faint that he was surprised to have seen them at all, and – now he looked – a small white circle on Harry's right bicep.

Well, those and the odd v-shape scar on his forehead.

Sure, a few more scars than average, but only one was particularly notable (again, aside from the one on his forehead that Takashi suspected was usually covered by make-up). It crossed Takashi's mind to wonder how Harry had hidden the marks on his arms the one time he had seen the younger boy in a t-shirt, but didn't bother with the thought much; Harry did plenty of strange things.

"You mind?" Takashi's eyes whipped up from where they had been scanning Harry's torso to find the aforementioned boy was facing him again, head cocked slightly to the side. Had he noticed Takashi's staring? But no, it didn't seem so; Harry just wanted privacy to get dressed. So Takashi nodded and left the room quickly. The door clicked shut, and almost immediately after he could hear the sound of creaking bed springs and the click of a window being slammed open.

Again, Takashi wondered how Harry could stand to live in such a small place if he needed the outdoors so badly. The ceiling was far less than a meter above Takashi's head, the walls to the main room couldn't be too far off, and there seemed too much furniture for just the two men living in the cramped apartment. He noted the window set over the stove and sink and wondered if that was why Harry cooked, to be as close to a source of fresh air as possible, but somehow that didn't seem right. If Harry simply wanted air, there was a small yard out front. He didn't seem the sort to waste his time cooking just so he could see a stretch of blue.

Of course, when Takashi thought of it, he hardly seemed the filthy-stinking rich type either, nor did he seem like a commoner really. Takashi had a difficult time reading the English boy. And he did so like puzzles.

"Are casual clothes alright, senpai?" Harry's voice carried easily to his ears, mere steps from the door to the bedroom.

Takashi's reply was simple, as usual. "Bring swim trunks." Takashi could count the number of full sentences he had said to the dark-haired first year on one hand. When he thought about it, the five words he had uttered to the boy in the past minute or two could count as another sentence. Make that both hands then.

Shaking himself free of such thoughts – why did it matter if he spoke to Harry overly much anyway? – Takashi returned to his previous inspection of the premises. Sure, it was a little nosey, but there wasn't much to see anyway. Two long couches were squished into the small room with an arm chair and a set of stools sat in the kitchen area around a small table. The coloring was a mix of plain and eccentric – three guesses who picked out the baby-blue and mauve polka dotted stool cushions – and now that he looked, there were a few board games stacked in the corner. Oddly, one corner of the room was completely uncluttered, but Takashi gave it next to no thought.

The two photographs near the door drew his attention again, and this time Takashi did decide to take a look. It was the one to the left that caught his attention first. In the center was a man and a woman, probably just out of high school, more than likely the same age as Takashi really, laughing about something. The man looked like a clone of Harry but for a few key points: he was taller, more built, had shorter hair, and his eyes. They weren't the impossible shade of green – nor were they as lonely.

The woman could be said to bear little resemblance to Harry, but there were similarities. It was mostly the shape of her face and the eyes, which were that impossible green yet immeasurably happy, but otherwise there was little to be seen that was the same. Though her smile seemed much better to fit Harry than the man's. Red curls cascaded around a pale face; she was beautiful.

On either side of the couple were another two men, one of whom was unmistakably a younger Sirius Black. The cool blue-gray eyes and almost dog-like grin made that apparent enough. The other was a rather raggedy looking teen, exasperated by whatever circumstances had brought the photo into being. Takashi had been surprised enough when he met the Hitachiin twins to see their eerie golden eyes, but somehow this man had even deeper amber irises that seemed almost... feral? Yet in the picture he seemed the least rowdy of the lot.

Another moment of scrutiny passed before Takashi turned his gaze to the right photo. He was surprised to see how young Harry looked in it; he couldn't have been more than twelve! And yet judging by the girl and boy in the picture with him, unless all his friends were older than him like the two inventors, it can't have been taken before he was fourteen. Mind, Takashi had known Harry was small – the first time he ever saw Harry, the teen had been slightly shorter than Haruhi – but he hadn't figured that Harry had always been so short for his age, just that he was between growth spurts at the time. The four inches he had gained in April had seemed to attest to that... then again, hadn't he mentioned taking a growth hormone that his company marketed?

Still, the entire scene was out of place. The three were obviously meant to be posing for the picture. Yet only the girl was doing it properly; her bushy mane of brown hair was tied back in a braid, dark brown eyes shining as she smiled widely at the camera, slightly-bucked teeth shown in all their brilliance. She had an arm wrapped over each boy's shoulder. Harry just looked awkward, smiling shyly as if he didn't know what to do in front of a camera. The other boy – he resembled Harry's twin-friends quite a bit, except he had a lankier build and a very small owl was seated on his shoulder – was simply ignoring the camera all together and looked like he would rather be anywhere _but_ right there.

"I'm going to grab a muffin; do you want one? They're blueberry," Harry's voice caught Takashi unaware in his thoughts yet again. He could hear Harry moving around behind him in the small kitchen area and he turned slightly. The sight of the many cake boxes in the cupboard that what was apparently a box of muffins was being pulled from was quite surprising.

"Thank you," Takashi accepted, keeping the surprise from his voice as he returned to the previous position of looking at the pictures. Strange that these should be the only two displayed in the entire house, though no one could accuse Harry and Sirius of normality. But Harry seemed like the sort of person who would be proud of such sentimental things – of the fact that he even had them – and Sirius the kind who would break out the baby pictures at a moment's notice.

Then again, maybe they just didn't have anything of sentimental value.

Suddenly, Harry was explaining who the people in the pictures were. The fact that the feral man was a teacher wasn't out of place, nor the revelation that neither picture was solely of those yet living. Takashi wasn't too surprised to learn that the red-haired boy was the younger brother of the Weasley twins, though the sound of betrayal that echoed in Harry's hollow tone when that boy was mentioned spoke volumes of the character of the ennui-afflicted "Ron."

By changing the subject to the baked goods that seemed to flood Harry's kitchen, they left any emotional grounds. It really was a good muffin; Harry was a good cook. And the thought to bring a cake for Mitsukuni – though why Harry, who claimed to not have much of a sweet tooth, had _excess cakes_ was unknown – was certainly a nice one. But Harry was a thoughtful boy.

As soon as Harry had retrieved one of the many cake boxes and set it in his arms with the muffins (very thoughtful of him to bring a treat for the other Hosts), they were out the door. Takashi locked it with Sirius' keys, earning a raised brow from Harry, but no commentary. The descent of the stairs was swift to start – there were only about twelve between each level after all, but Harry paused in the middle for a breath at Tamaki's inquiry to Takashi's location. Obviously he had noted that the rest of the Club outside of Takashi was unaware that he had been invited.

So Takashi thought quickly and only two stairs lower he plopped his hand on Harry's head, smiled, and continued on as if nothing happened. That always cheered Satoshi up, and Haruhi never exactly minded. If anything, Harry seemed calmer at least as they said hello to Sirius in the Fujioka apartment to drop of the keys before joining the rest of the group that was going to the lake.

While Takashi received a hero's welcome from Mitsukuni, everyone avoided Harry until Haruhi's stomach dictated that she take one of the offered muffins, opening that avenue to the others. Takashi took another muffin for himself and everyone loaded into the cars present. Harry was ushered into the car that Takashi shared with Mitsukuni for the journey and they all settled in well enough. Almost as soon as the car pulled away from the curb, they were all lost in their own thoughts.

It was only when Takashi had moved Mitsukuni – the younger of the cousins having fallen asleep – that he noticed anything peculiar. Mimicry of position and habits were part of the body language for attraction. Harry and Takashi were sitting in the exact same position.

Harry had been the one to settle first, meaning that Takashi had copied _him_... his face turned swiftly to the window while Takashi hid his very slight blush. This was unexpected, though not unprecedented. Still...

Takashi sighed and continued looking out the window.

**Basically, it's when Takashi first realized he might like Harry "that way." Please note that I **_**am**_** taking omake requests. 'Snot like I have anything better to do, ne? And to think last chapter I said I wouldn't write any more ridiculously long omake... *shakes head in exasperation* (Edit: Even a year after starting the fic (and 7 months after finishing), that's still my favorite scene in the entire story, from both perspectives)**

(a) When I wrote chapter 12 I didn't notice it, but the lake trip occurred on my fifteenth birthday (to the story it would be Hermione's seventeenth). Hadn't even thought of it... hm... (The chapter was not WRITTEN on my 15th birthday; I turned 17 the day I posted chapter 24, so I haven't been 15 in a while. I'm saying the chapter occurred on that day. Sorry for the confusion.)


	31. Chapter 31

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 31

Harry stood in the middle of the sidewalk staring aghast at the place where Takashi and the hobo – no, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts, Head of the Order of the Phoenix, Defeater of Grindelwald, and all around manipulative bastard – had been for three seconds.

Then the panicking started. Oh, it wasn't Harry panicking; he was in a state of mild shock. No, it was the muggles on the street and sidewalk around him that had seen the scene unfolding. He knew it must look strange to outsiders – hell, it looked strange to _him_. First Harry and Takashi help the man, then he starts blabbering English to Harry, grabbing him almost violently before Takashi tore the seeming-bum from Harry and they both suddenly vanished.

It also revealed magic to muggles.

Harry did the first thing he could think of; he pulled out his mobile and dialed the 110.

"Hello? There's been an abduction on the corner of South 3rd and West Ko street," Harry said as soon as the call was picked up. "Could you send a team from the Auror Division?" His heart was beating rapidly, and he felt cold. Harry fiddled with his bag, trying to find the calming potion that he _knew_ was there, if only he could find it!

"You sure it's something that they should be handling?" the police officer (or even just receptionist; Harry really didn't know) asked. The Auror Division was, to the muggle police, a highly specialized group of government agents who worked mainly on the "strange" cases. If the Aurors were called in on the case, the police would never hear a word about it either.

"Positive," he bit out, feeling his heart speed up just a bit more. He caught sight of the pale blue potion and pulled it out quickly. "Just call them in now, got it? This is very important. If they give you any trouble, tell them that Dumbledore Albus is involved."

"I... fine," the voice sighed. "I'll patch you through. Please hold."

Harry downed the calming draught – the first he'd had in months and now he was taking the entire bottle to keep himself sane – and had only twenty seconds for it to start working before the other line picked back up.

"We've been told there was a kidnapping involving Dumbledore Albus," the no-nonsense tone of an auror immediately floated through the line. "We'll be there in a minute. Are there any details that we ought to know prior to arrival?"

"You need to bring a team of obliviators; Dumbledore just abducted a muggle in plain sight using a portkey," Harry said quickly. "People are starting to pull out cell phones, so shutting down the towers in this sector would be a good idea too. Just come quickly!" Harry knew he should be feeling scared, freaking out, anything, but the little blue potion had done its job well. He knew there was a need for haste, that Takashi was in danger and that this was worrisome. But an objective view was necessary.

Three seconds later, Harry's sound made a beep, signaling a loss of signal, which obviously hit everyone else too. People were talking about disappearances and Harry was honestly glad that he was completely unnoticed at the moment. It made him wonder at the lack of fans he had seen all throughout the day, but he didn't dare go into that because right now he had to think of anything he could do to get Takashi back.

True to their word, the Auror Corps – appearing in regular police uniform except that it wasn't quite so snug and the gun holsters were replaced with some sort of magical tazer (Harry had always been a bit afraid to ask what it was) – arrived on the scene from a nearby apparition point. They caught sight of the pandemonium on the other side of the street, and already the Obliviation Team – in more normal wizarding clothing – set to work containing the damage. Harry approached an auror he remembered from the attacks on the department stores.

"Captain Watanabe!" Harry waved his arm widely to make sure that the obliviators didn't think he needed to be taken in. "Thank you for arriving promptly."

"Potter-san? You're the one who called in?" Unlike the rest of the wizarding world, the aurors of Japan didn't seem to care one lick that Harry was _the_ Harry Potter, something he liked about them more than the British forces. He was considering trying to get Tonks to transfer. "What do you know about what happened here?" He had already pulled out a notepad and baby-blue auto-quill to take Harry's statement.

"About five minutes ago I was leaving the movie theater with a friend of mine when a bum was hit by a car on the other side of the street," Harry quickly indicated the movie theater across the way and then the spot where the offending car was still parked, a small dent in its fender and a bit of blood on the hood. They would have to collect the blood... maybe they could scry for Dumbledore's location? "My friend and I came over to help since I'm a first-aid medic. It only took about two minutes to get the old man stable enough for transport – one of the spectators was in the process of calling an ambulance – when suddenly he addressed me.

"He was about six-foot five by my guess, Caucasian male appearing to muggles to be in his seventies; he'd look to be in his 140's to 160's to any magical person," Harry rattled off the description. "Scraggly beard hanging two inches below his chin, hair the same length, and he looks like he hasn't had a good meal in a while. Bright, twinkling blue eyes. Of course I didn't recognize him until I heard his voice. It was unmistakably Dumbledore, sir. He grabbed me and pulled a sherbet lemon wrapper from his pocket. My friend pulled Dumbledore off me, but the wrapper was a portkey and took them away. I called the police department not ten second later and... here we are."

"You told Fukushima that it was a muggle who was kidnapped," Watanabe pointed out, seeming to think there was a flaw to the story.

"Yeah, Morinozuka Takashi," Harry stated the name clearly so that the quill would catch it. "A friend of mine from school."

"Maa, so you really did make friendly with the muggles, and judging my the registry he knows about magic," the quill was snatched from the air as Watanabe started jotting down a few notes of his own. "So that's abduction, assault, public portkey usage in a muggle sector, illegal portkey, and depending on how many muggles slip through the cracks, up to one thousand exposures and cover-ups..." he sighed. "Potter, trouble really follows you, doesn't it?" A moment's pause. "You seem pretty calm."

"Unfortunately," Harry nodded. "I had to take a calming draught before I started going insane with worry. I need a clear head so that I can explain what happened to you, then to Takashi's family. I'll transfer funds to have a group of muggles made aware of magic before midnight. I figure you will need their cooperation to an extent."

Watanabe nodded, allowed the quill to go back to jotting its own notes, and looked at Harry quickly. "Alright. Since they're muggles you'd do best to call to set up a meeting. The mobile block ends four blocks to all sides from this point. I know you're interest in Dumbledore, and since it's your friend that you witnessed being kidnapped we can at least keep your godfather posted. Call him to come here or the auror office if you can. That man has a sharp instinct; if it hadn't been for that damned scandal he could've been the best auror in the British ministry. Try not to take any more calming potions, and no more than one per person during revealing; we'd have to take you in for abuse for a controlled substance. Considering it's the Morinozuka family you're dealing with... they're pretty well controlled, but you never know."

Harry nodded, knowing that such a statement was meant to be light-hearted, but it didn't quite compute. Of course, Harry would be called again later to give a formal statement, have his memory inspected, and whatever else the aurors needed be done for the case. If they believed scrying or tracking charms would be best for the case, they already had free access to Dumbledore's blood; they almost definitely would have full cooperation from the Morinozuka and Haninozuka families...

That thought nearly made Harry stop as he approached his car – which Hanazaka had arrived in while Harry was still talking to Watanabe (Harry would have apparated, but the car would give him time to think and time to assemble the parties who needed to know) – and he realized just what the Morinozuka name meant.

Hani. And Satoshi. And Yasuchika... never mind the adults in the family! Two whole families full of martial arts experts were going to be after Dumbledore's blood. Harry almost felt sorry for the old man. And if all forms of magical transportation that Takashi had tried thus far hadn't made him ill, Harry figured that he might not need to worry so much about Takashi to begin with, even if he would hesitate to strike an old man.

He remembered seeing Takashi practicing kendo the one time, and thinking of him as dangerous. In that one instant, when he was in danger, Harry knew that Takashi could handle himself quite a lot better than Harry could. It made him feel a bit better.

He climbed into the backseat and made a motion for Hanazaka to remain stationary. Not that the old man had any idea what had happened, or why Takashi wasn't there too, but Harry had to give proper warning, and something had just occurred to him. "Hanazaka-san, stay here until I get back again, okay? Takashi has been kidnapped and I need to make some preparations before I tell his family what happened. Give me about five minutes; that should be all I need."

Not that he gave any chance to respond as he spun about in his crouched position and apparated away from the car (kind of strange, but do-able) and almost winced when he landed in the house. The popcorn was not agreeing with that trip and – judging by the small explosion he had heard from his bag – neither had the remaining gummy worms (1). But Harry didn't bother with that and called for Dinky to bring him a small case of calming draughts before he hit the speed dial six on his phone.

The call was picked up pretty quickly and Hani's energetic cry of "Hi Harry-chan!" almost made the serene teen annoyed. Given what was happening...

"Hello Hani-senpai," Harry greeted quickly. "Do you think you could call together Takashi's family for me? There's a bit of an emergency."

"Of course! But... why didn't you just ask Takashi to do it? I thought he said he was hanging out with you today," Hani observed. By the tone, Harry could tell that Hani suspected the answer to that already, though he ignored the suggestive tone at the end. They still hadn't told anyone about the relationship, but it really wasn't their fault; it just... kept slipping Harry and Takashi's mind. Honest.

"Unfortunately, Takashi _is_ the emergency," Harry sighed. The sharp intake of breath over the line made Harry wonder just how well the old man would stand up to Hani in a rage. Just waking the guy up had made Harry fear for his life... "He's not in mortal danger... Look, it's important that everyone who needs to know is together in about twenty to twenty-five minutes. The Aurors are already on the scene and I figured I would give Takashi's family a run-down of magic before the Aurors go to tell them what's going on and all that. I'll see you then, okay?"

"I... yeah, okay..." Hani sounded horridly confused, horrified, and there was a hint of anger that Harry thought would likely spell the end of anyone who got in his way. It may not be obvious to most, but Hani was just as protective of Takashi as Takashi was of Hani. "Are you going to call the Club, too?"

"I think so," Harry replied. They said their goodbyes and Harry quickly set to calling Sirius and the rest of the Host Club. Group phone calls were a miraculous thing.

* * *

They landed with the distinct "thump" that comes with portkey travel. Normally, Albus Dumbledore would have landed on his feet with full scores for grace, posture, and the like. However, several factors went against him on this.

First off, he had departed from a seated position, which meant that it was his knees hitting the ground first rather than his feet.

Second, he had a passenger attached to his grimy old brown coat rather than the sherbet lemon wrapper that was the portkey.

Third, this passenger was a muggle. A muggle who, apparently, did not agree with portkey travel.

Albus recognized him from the articles about Harry that had been in the papers the last month-and-a-half or so. Not that he could be bothered to remember the young man's name – he was just some muggle that Harry had taken to in his time among them – but the fact that he was friends with Harry was certainly significant.

Thankfully, the muggle boy had fallen backwards rather than forwards when they landed, so Albus had no problems standing. The muggle threw up – there seemed to be a half-dissolved gummy worm in there, which was disturbing – and the old man was thankful that the portkey didn't go straight inside the... "house" but had, in fact, deposited them just outside of it in a warded area to prevent wandering eyes.

Not that there would be many, given the "house" was actually in a dump near Kochi. But that was just a technicality.

The months since he fled England had not been kind to Albus Dumbledore, nor had the year he remained in England after Harry denounced him. When the interview published days before Harry's knighting – something Albus had not been invited to because of that same article – it had not only ruined whatever future there might have been for the two youngest Weasleys and increased support behind Harry all the world over, it had done what had been previously thought impossible; it had utterly destroyed everything he knew about the world.

One minute he was top of the world – Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Mugwump, and so many other titles were his, he practically ran the Ministry, and he was shaping the future of wizarding society _in his image_! – and one article from a petulant teenager who didn't even _do_ anything had sent that all crashing down. Thinking back on it, Albus wished that he had thought more on it before boosting Harry's fame himself.

But, as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty no matter how rose-tinted the glasses were. And Merlin's rainbow-striped toe-socks, were his glasses tinted.

The British wizarding society had turned on him in a matter of three hours as people received and read their issues of the _Daily Prophet_. Over the course of the next week, Dumbledore found himself voted out of Hogwarts by the board of Governors, the court system by the Wizengamot, the International Confederation of Wizards by the same governing body... everything. Suddenly, all he had was his brother Aberforth – not that the bartender wanted anything to do with him – enough money to last the Dumbledore family several generations (not that there would be any more of the line), and several homes around the world.

To most people, this would be plenty. The Dumbledore family was well off, and if he so desired Aberforth never would have had to have opened up the Hogshead. But Albus wanted more. He wanted recognition, stability, and any number of things that were now gone. The fact that he couldn't even go to the market without derogatory comments (and other things less pleasant) being thrown his way made it worse.

But the worst part was that Fawkes left him. Or, rather, he stayed with Hogwarts, because that was what the bird had bonded himself too, not the aged Headmaster.

No longer was Albus Dumbledore the Paragon of the Light.

So he pretended to have a lead on Harry. Not that he had even the slightest idea, but he figured that America was right out. That would be too obvious, and if living with Sirius Black would have taught the boy anything, it would be to be unpredictable. So he booked a portkey to Bulgaria and set it off a minute before it was due, rerouting the tin can to his home in Australia with only a few bags of galleons and an old manor house to his name. Again, quite a bit by most people's standards, but Albus was used to an exorbitant lifestyle.

After two months of... nothing, Albus read an article titled "Boy-Who-Lived in Japan!" Which, of course, caused him to book the next available portkey to the island nation... just like every other witch and wizard in the world it seemed. Whenever Harry was sighted, an alert would seem to travel through to the fans, but not to Albus. He always arrived after Harry and his cadre of body-guards – also known as the Weasleys, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black – had left the scene.

It was only by luck that he wasn't recognized upon being bowled over by Oliver Wood once.

Albus had figured it would be quick; he would only need enough money to stay in an upscale hotel for a week at most before returning to Britain with Harry in tow. Obviously, this was not the case, but the plan had been tweaked accordingly.

He had intended to find Harry in first few days, kidnap him, use legilimancy to find out what he really thought and tweak it with a memory charm. No one would know that Albus had ever found the lad. He planned to implant compulsions and directives to make Harry return to England, cut all ties with Japan, and play a good lapdog. He would marry Ginevra Weasley and be best friends with Ronald, rescind all the bad things that he had said about Albus...

After seven weeks of trying to find the "Vanquisher", he had. And now he had a nauseous muggle getting sick in front of the trash pile that hid Albus' current home. He had created a hollow area within and set up a proper house of it – though small by his own standards – to live in until he could get to Harry. The area was heavily warded and, he was proud to say, didn't smell like rotting cabbage.

But that puddle of puke did not fit in with the aesthetics of the place, even if the outside _was_ a literal dump. And right on the doormat too.

The muggle was trying to get to his feet, steely eyes blazing in a way that contrasted with the pallid, sickly skin-tone. Well, he should have grabbed the portkey itself rather than the coat if he didn't want to get sick! Still, a quick legilimancy scan revealed the muggle's plan – as well as the fact that his name was Morinozuka Takashi – which involved kicking Albus in the stomach, then an ax-kick on his back before finishing off with some sort of sleeper-hold.

Well, Albus couldn't have that, now could he? No, those muggle martial-arts were certainly not going to be implemented against _him_!

"Petrificus Totalus," he intoned as soon as his wand – fourteen inches, beech (2), which a phoenix feather from a phoenix which Fawkes had courted at the time of the wand's making after the defeat of Grindelwald – slipped into his hand from the wrist holster. The boy's eyes widened slightly as the tiny beam of silver light hit him straight on before he fell back over, stiff as a board.

Albus never even had to wonder if Harry had told the boy about magic as his still-active legilimancy showed him a flash of Harry engaged in a duel with Sirius – and losing badly. Not a surprise given Sirius' reputation as a top duelist at Hogwarts and among the Order. The emotions associated _were_ rather surprising however. Academic interest, appreciation, and... lust?

_It seems that the papers weren't just making things up..._ Albus thought curiously. But he could work this to advantage, he was sure. Opening the door, he strode in and levitated the petrified muggle – no, he was important now, best to call him by name – Morinozuka (such a strange name (3)) behind him and into the small sitting room. Gray eyes flicked all about the room, having already accepted the futility of fighting the magic, apparently searching for an escape. Not that there was any to be had.

Morinozuka was set on the couch across from the fireplace and the body-bind was removed for only half a second – hardly enough time for him to even start trying to sit – before Albus conjured some ropes around the teen and a compulsion to make him talk. Unfortunately, without Severus, Albus had no Veritaserum, so the best he could rely on was legilimancy (but not enough to break Morinozuka) and some minor compulsions.

It didn't make Harry's apparent lover like the ex-Headmaster any more.

"Morinozuka, is it?" The muggle did not respond. Ah, yes, he had to put on a translation first. Casting the most basic of such charms on himself, Albus repeated himself, though it didn't seem to goad any response. Morinozuka merely continued to glare. "Come now; I realize these aren't the most savory of circumstances, but that's hardly polite." Still nothing. Albus coughed; the compulsion was supposed to make him chatty, wasn't it? "You know, I'm quite close to Harry; practically his grandfather really."

"Liar." Well, at least he'd said _something_. Was Morinozuka simply very tight-lipped? But no, that wouldn't explain the extent of the resistance to his compulsion. "You're Dumbledore Albus."

"That's Albus Dumbledore," corrected the old man in question. "And I assure you it's quite true. Why, I know everything about that boy. I was Headmaster of Hogwarts while he attended..." That should have been a cue for Morinozuka to claim that no, Albus did not know everything about Harry, and then expound. Instead, his facial expression was hard as flint.

Another sweep by of legilimancy only revealed a wistful plan to take something called a "shinai" – which really just looked like a sword made of wood – and attack a certain old man with that sword. Apparently Morinozuka was the Japanese National Champion of something called "Ken Doe", which was a rather strange name.

Maybe Albus should have picked a better translation charm; some things simply didn't translate properly.

Either way, there wasn't a new-born child's chance against Merlin in a duel that he would be letting Morinozuka about unbound at any point in time. None whatsoever.

* * *

Harry released a sigh and pressed the little button on the call-box. "Potter Harry here," was all he managed to get out before the door opened and Hani burst through, dragging him through the gardens. Harry was glad not for the first time that he had fast reflexes or Hani might have been literally dragging him.

They were in the sprawling house before Harry could say anything, and upon being dragged into the den by a very-worried Hani, Harry's calming potion-influenced mind informed him that it was a good idea that he had asked Dinky for a case of calming draughts. There were quite a few people who would not only be learning that magic existed, but that Takashi had been kidnapped by a user of that same force.

As a matter of fact, there were more than twenty people of such a disposition, as well as seven who already knew of magic but had yet to learn of Takashi's fate (and, strangely, Kanazuki Reiko). Harry paled and swallowed as all eyes swiveled to him.

Time to face the music.

He started by asking Haruhi to give everyone calming potions, which she obviously took as a bad sign. She sent him a curious look before enlisting Kasanoda to help her (while Harry didn't recall inviting Takashi's disciple, it was a solid move). When he reminded her to take one for herself and the rest of the Hosts, she paled drastically and nodded, not saying anything.

"Right… I'll get straight to the heart of the matter," Harry fidgeted. He should have known Hani would invite a lot of the family, and he knew there were likely a _lot_ more of them that hadn't come, given the time constraint but really! He would have to get an official tally. "Takashi was kidnapped about half-an-hour ago."

Considering the number of potions passed around, what happened could be considered an uproar. This was also taking into consideration that half of those present were of the Morinozuka family and thus rather quiet by nature. The din was cut by Hitoshi standing from the couch where he had perched himself with his wife and Satoshi.

"Why aren't the police the ones telling us this?" he asked. Harry winced, knowing it was probably a big break in protocol for any law enforcement, but then again, when it came to the aurors, they wouldn't be about to tell a bunch of muggles about the magical world and might leave them out of the loop entirely. Which meant it was up to Harry to make sure that the Morinozuka and Haninozuka families were aware of what was happening to the Morinozuka heir.

"Look… Morinozuka-sama… to be honest what I'm going to tell you is a pretty big risk," Harry fidgeted under the collective looks. "The… the division of the police that is dealing with Takashi's kidnapping will have details that they wouldn't be able to tell you unless you know about the sort of person who took him. Something that, by law, they can't tell you about. I can, and the fine pretty much pocket change, all things considered," never mind that one hundred galleons was quite a lot to anyone not so well off as Harry, "Just… hear me out, okay?"

The head of the Morinozuka family looked Harry dead in the eyes before the calming draught seemed to kick in again and he nodded. Okay, now to figure out how to tell a large group of muggles about magic. Right. No problem. Never mind that the last muggle who he told about magic ended up going ballistic and wouldn't speak to him until Kyouya had ruined his faith in humanity.

That same muggle, one Suou Tamaki, sent Harry a thumbs up. Well, it had to come out anyway.

Before he could say anything though, a woman with pale brown hair, honey-brown eyes, and holding a baby gave spoke up.

"You're Potter Harry," she stated. That made him stop halfway to opening his mouth for the sole reason that Harry hadn't actually said his name yet (kind of stupid of him, but it still happened). That, and the fact that Harry recognized her as being Hani's older sister.

Obviously, Hani caught that too. "Hitomi-nee-chan? How do you know Harry-chan?" He asked.

Maybe the calming potions were too strong considering the way everyone was getting distracted. Then again, Harry was quite aware of everything. A bit too aware really. The calming potion was supposed to last him for a good five hours, yet he was feeling fidgety and all too aware of the walls and how many people were in the room. Hadn't he been better the past few months?

"I've never met him, but I know of him," Hitomi replied, not removing her gaze from Harry. She looked confused. Well, Harry felt confused, and the fact that he felt anything other than a perfect calm was not a good sign. "You're going to tell us about magic, aren't you?"

Of all the extended Haninozuka and Morinozuka family, Harry hadn't expected it to be Hani's older sister who was the one that knew about magic. Somehow it still didn't fit; if she was a witch, Hani would have already known about magic. And she didn't seem old enough to have set the incense burning in the meditation room either.

These words did not go unnoticed by the rest of the family as both sides seemed – for the most part – uncomprehending of the idea of magic. Excepting the Hosts, the man sitting next to Hani's sister (Sagisaka Kichiro, Hitomi's husband), and one other of the Haninozuka side; an old woman who was, in all likelihood, Hani's grandmother, that is.

Gaping like a fish, Harry could only nod. Then he collected himself and did explain magic before any more outbursts could occur. He had to finish and call to have the fines transferred before the aurors arrived to explain the situation or there would be the threat of Obliviation. Questions – most particularly his own – could wait. Even if he really _really_ wanted to get outside. As soon as possible.

As additional proof towards to end, Hani vanished and came back with the photograph of the Hosts (plus Harry) with the Bulgarian Quidditch Team from a month prior. The small waving figures seemed to shut up any of the nonbelievers.

Never mind the revelation that Hitomi's husband was a wizard or that Hani's maternal grandmother – the same one who had made his bunny rabbit – was a first generation squib. Honestly, even to Harry is all seemed like too much of a coincidence. Then again, he was still used to British wizarding society, which was so secular that even squibs didn't marry into muggle families for a couple generations most times.

It was when he got to his explanation of exactly what had happened that ended with Takashi being kidnapped that the aurors popped up.

Literally.

The startled screams and other assorted noises of the assembled family at the series of loud bangs from just outside the room almost drew Harry's attention away from how close everything felt as a small group of aurors (plus Sirius) led by Captain Watanabe entered the room without invitation.

If Harry hadn't informed all the muggles in the room of magic, the proceedings would have been a lot more straightforward. The aurors would have informed them of Takashi's kidnapping, received any information that they might have believed pertinent, and then modified everyone's memories so that they would not recall the method of arrival and departure for the investigation team. As it was, there would not be any Obliviations. Thankfully.

The arrival of the aurors and Sirius was a signal to Harry, that he might be leaving to search for Takashi soon. He would also be out of the even more cramped environment…

Hadn't he found this house deceptively spacious a few weeks ago?

With Sirius hanging off of him and holding him in a protective half-embrace, Harry didn't really feel any better. Though it was nice to have someone who knew that he would be feeling very very panicky were he not doped up on calming draughts at this point. Actually, Harry didn't know _what_ Takashi's family knew, though Satoshi was aware.

"Potter-san," Watanabe asked in a pseudo-stern voice. "Have you informed these muggles of magic?" Harry nodded. "How many?"

"Nineteen in the last half-hour, six of them were informed in November after an… accident of Sirius' doing," Harry admitted easily. "Two of the women present are squibs, that man over there is a wizard, and the woman holding a baby is his wife so I'm not responsible for them."

"And you'll have your fines paid by the end of the night, I expect?" Harry had promised, hadn't he? And it was only a quick phone call to take care of it. No problem. When Harry replied in the affirmative, Watanabe moved on to briefing the family on the situation.

There was nothing new to be said beyond what Harry already knew beyond that the portkey was untraceable and whatever location Dumbledore was using as his hide-out was warded against blood tracking. Which was not good news. Harry could help but sigh in a forlorn manner. He would spend the night and as long as it took to help out in any way that he could.

Or he thought he would be.

"Harry, you should head back home; preferably my house, got it?" Harry's head whipped up at Sirius' words.

"Excuse me?" All thought of how close the walls were or the fact that the calming potion shouldn't be wearing thin so quickly flew from Harry's mind. "Sirius, I can help; you know I can! You can't just –"

"I can," Sirius seemed to be fighting an internal battle, but it was obvious that one side was winning over the other. "I know how worried you are – or, if you've taking a calming draught, how worried you _ought to be_ – and I know you want to go in wand blazing. You've done it often enough while you were at Hogwarts – and don't you dare try to contradict that. But considering you're the one that Dumbledore was after… giving you to him without a fight is _not_ a good idea. This isn't like back home where the Minister is working to undermine the aurors at every turn, okay Kiddo?"

Harry scowled, the small flicker of ire overwhelming the calming draught. Sirius had only gotten away with calling him "kiddo" once, and the results still hadn't been pretty. Why he would bother… either way, Harry shoved the older man off of him and took a step away.

"Morinozuka-sama," he paused as ten different people turned their attention to him. "Er… Hitoshi-sama," he corrected, "would you mind if I used your meditation room for a few minutes?" Hitoshi nodded and Harry smiled in thanks before darting out of the room. The meditation incense should help clear his mind and – if there was an external reason for his sudden spike in claustrophobic response – curb his nerves.

It didn't help much. Sirius appeared at the doorway ten minutes later telling Harry that he had to go help the investigation more and so Harry had to get going. "I'm not letting you out of my sight until we get you to my house, got that?" He had said sternly. Harry could only send a heated glare. Not only did Sirius have the legal right – considering he was Harry's legal guardian – but he had the ability to _make_ Harry stay. Once again, Harry wished he was better at dueling but he knew it wouldn't be happening for a while.

Harry stood up from his position on the ground with a sigh and left the room, leading Sirius through the halls of the compound with Satoshi at his side. The middle school student had a distinctly green caste to his skin, his faith obviously shaken by the sudden loss of his brother. Harry couldn't sympathize with the loss of a brother – unless one counted Ron's betrayal, which he didn't – but he was probably as distressed by Takashi's kidnapping.

Though the fact that the only emotion his calming draught did seem to be blocking was that particular emotion was rather annoying. The fact that he could get annoyed at all was making Harry more annoyed. He would have to check the expiration date on the draught he had taken and the ones on the rest of his usual supply.

* * *

Harry didn't sleep a wink that night. Calming potions were not conducive to sleeping, and they didn't mix with sleeping potions, unless the drinker wanted to be in a coma for a few weeks (which Harry did not). By the time the potion had worn off, Harry was too panicked to bother with a sleep aid. He spent the entire night running about Sirius' mansion doing whatever he could think of to get his mind off what was happening. That didn't work of course, but he tried.

Worse still, the next morning when he could be found, exhausted and sitting on his bed staring out the large window-wall, Sirius entered with only a knock as warning. Harry felt like tackling him, hexing him, anything. But he was too drained, psychologically and physically due to too much thinking, panicking, and a distinct lack of sleep.

"Put this on; doesn't the Host Ball start at noon?" Sirius stated, as if nothing was wrong. Harry glared at the man half-heartedly before returning his gaze to the window. He did not want to talk to the man that was keeping him away from finding Takashi. He'd done so much – saved the Philosopher's Stone, killed the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, saved _Sirius_ from the Dementors – and Sirius was treating him like a kid. He knew it was reasonable, and he understood the actions completely.

But Harry couldn't help but feel as petulant as a five-year-old denied candy. (4)

He also couldn't help but feel like Sirius was purposefully goading him. Telling him to go to the _Valentine's Day Ball_ when Takashi had been abducted from right under his nose! All to protect _him_ from Dumbledore! It was all Harry's fault, and worse still it seemed like Sirius expected him to act as though nothing had happened.

It was maddening, disheartening, and many other words ending in "ening" that Harry couldn't be bothered to think of considering his mental and emotional state.

Yet somehow Harry found himself in the Ouran ballroom wearing a suit of deep red and white with intermixed bits of green (to bring out his eyes no doubt) as well as silver and gold threading. Obviously a Hitachiin design. Were it not for the circumstances, Harry might have liked it; as it was, he wanted to tear the splendorous outfit to shreds and go find Takashi.

It was a very negative cycle that led within the hour to Harry sitting on the window sill and staring outside at the last of the Ouran-autumn's leaves falling; tomorrow, Monday, would be the first day of Spring and all the leaves would be budding once more.

Though if looks could kill, none of the trees in that particular grove would bloom again. Ever.

Harry's brooding was disturbed by a tap on his shoulder and Harry whipped his head around, turning the glare from the plant-life to Tamaki. The half-French boy recoiled visibly, muttering something about a fourth demon (5), but when Harry turned back to trying to kill trees with his eyes, Tamaki was still there.

"You shouldn't worry so much, Harry-kun," Tamaki said after a moment. "Those auror-people and Sirius are looking for Mori-senpai; they're bound to find him." He sounded strangely understanding. Not that Tamaki wasn't like that often, but he'd never really managed it with Harry; they had very little in common and were barely friends. But for once Tamaki seemed to understand.

It didn't help Harry any. "You don't know Dumbledore," Harry grumbled. "This guy held the entire wizarding world in a thrall for so long that he forgot laws pertained to every member of society. He's powerful, experienced... Dumbledore is probably the best duelist to come out of Britain and with the way he treated me all my life I can't say that he will have many scruples in dealing with Takashi. I heard once that the man can read minds. He's a warding genius... there's a good chance that we'll have to give into his demands, whatever they are."

More than likely it would be to surrender Harry or something of the sort. Which, as Sirius had already stated, wouldn't happen.

If the offer came, Harry would still take it in a heart beat.

"But... you really shouldn't worry," Tamaki reasoned. "One man with magic, however powerful, can't best dozens, right? And... I'm sure Mori-senpai will be fine. He's strong like that."

Words that should have reassured him only made Harry blow his top. He knew they should have made him feel better, and he had thought them himself. That might have been what made him angry. He wasn't entirely sure.

"I have every right to be worried!" He snapped, practically shouted. "My boyfriend was kidnapped last night, damn it! It's my fault that Takashi isn't here today so let me brood!"

It was only after he had returned his gaze once more to the window that Harry realized what he had said and that the ball room was strangely silent considering the festivities (and the forlorn cries of the Hani and Takashi fangirls who were distraught to see that their favored Hosts were both gone for the event). He wanted to hit his head, but his anger might have caused the glass to break if he let himself too loose.

Oddly, when he turned his gaze to the ball room tentatively, it was only Tamaki who didn't look to surprised by the outburst.

**Author's Note: I am plugging a new HP/Ouran Xover: Black Bird by Araceil. It is amazing. Read it. Now. Trust me when I say it is probably the best HP/Ouran out there. It is darker, more risqué, and does not have Sirius in it, but as I said, it's great. Read it!!!**

**In other news, cluelessromantic made me another fanart and it is most adorable :3**

**I'm sorry if there was any confusion last chapter, but Harry and Takashi did not do anything other than make out... Takashi just figured out that he could kiss more than just Harry's mouth. Nothing that would up the rating of this story. (For the love of Merlin, Takashi's parents were home! Who cares of Harry set up silencing charms? That would up the awkward sooo much...)**

**Oh noes, Harry's an angry monkey again... he's gotten so much better since he started flying again too ((sigh)) the stress is just really getting to him, you know? Still, I'm kinda worried (I mean it). Angry!Harry tends to screw with my writing soo much.**

(1) Way back in chapter 10, when Harry ran into Satoshi, I mentioned that muggle food tends to explode in apparition. The first indication in ages that I even remember making that up, and I explode gummy-worms while Takashi is in Dumbles' hands... ((sighs)) I am so weird...

(2) Beech symbolizes guidance from the past, insight, and is a solid base to rely upon (Dumbles' self-image).

(3) Dumbles thinks that Morinozuka is Takashi's given name, since his translation spell gives the most literal translation of every sentence and doesn't swap around thing likes name order... just so you know.

(4) A fine comparison given he is a sixteen-year-old denied his significant other.

(5) The other demons are Kyouya (the Low Blood-Pressure Demon ('cause he's scary when he gets woken up too early)), Hani ('cause he's scary when he gets woken up in general), and Haruhi (who is apparently an evil task-master when it comes to cleaning).

_Omake #5: Takes place November 23, 2006, 4:10 pm, in the Ouran Club Room (Chapter 15/16)_

Takashi bit into his yam, not really tasting it. Not that it tasted bad; he just had other things on his mind. He was glad that Harry was better – the chickenpox were no fun as he well remembered – but the fact that he was over it in half the time was strange. None of the mysterious Potter-Evans remedies had been used, he knew, just the same medicines that everyone used: anti-itch cream, Tylenol, and antibiotics.

Considering how healthy the first-year seemed in comparison to the week previous, it was also kind of obvious that he wasn't hanging out with them because he didn't want to. It hurt a bit, but considering Harry's (very) vague attempt all that month to distance himself, it wasn't working.

Takashi took another bite of his yam, thankful that Harry wouldn't be able to get away from them.

Just as his mind began wandering to the leaves falling outside, a loud crack, like a gunshot or car backfiring, split the air and caused Takashi to sit up straight on the couch he was sharing with Mitsukuni. He had barely turned around when he saw Sirius Black running a couple steps to collapse in front of their table, on the edge of a panic attack.

Not to mention that he had just appeared out of thin air. Takashi wasn't going to forget that little fact anytime soon.

No one could ever insult Sirius or Harry by claiming they were normal people, but that just wasn't _normal_ at all. Or within the realm of possibility.

"Have you seen Harry?" The British Lord gasped as he crouched slightly on his heels, sending a wide-eyed look at the four students. He was like a cornered animal. When everyone continued to merely stare, he moved forward a bit more. "Tell me, _have any of you seen Harry_?"

The first to snap out of it at the desperate statement was Takashi. He stood carefully so as not to alarm the panicking man, ready to move to help him should it be necessary... or to defend the others if Sirius turned out to be dangerous. "He left school an hour ago," Takashi stated calmly. Full, rational statements in a soothing tone would calm Sirius down somewhat, hopefully. "He said he was going home."

"Well he _isn't_ home," Sirius fell from his half-standing position and seemed to collapse in on himself. "His things are gone and I can't find even a trace of his signature to track. I can't even use a tracking charm!" His eyes looked even wilder and Takashi was inclined to think that Sirius was about to cry as he set to talk more –

Until Haruhi ripped half a piece of chocolate cake off of Mitsukuni's plate and stuffed it into Sirius' mouth, causing the man to suddenly stop all motion before he started eating the cake-glob. Takashi looked to see how Mitsukuni was taking it; he suspected that his cousin was still more in shock over the appearing-out-of-nowhere thing rather than the loss of his cake.

"Harry-kun and my dad do that to him sometimes when he gets depressed," Haruhi admitted after a moment of staring from all three of the boys who had, roughly thirty seconds ago, been enjoying her cooking. "Chocolate is usually the only thing that can cheer him up, or that's what Harry-kun said. But..." she paused for a breath, "Sirius, you didn't just... _appear_, did you?"

What ensued thereafter was about twelve seconds devoted to saying that magic – actual magic! – existed and that he could tell them properly when Harry was rescued from the Death Eaters. Which Takashi wouldn't have believed if he didn't see Sirius vanish with another loud crack with his own two eyes. As it was, he was skeptical.

He was also highly concerned. Harry was _missing_, his things were gone, and from what Sirius had said, even "magic" (if it really was real) couldn't find him. Takashi would have some choice words for the younger teen.

One look to Mitsukuni conveyed his message, and the Haninozuka heir stood up from his seat.

"We're going to help find Harry-chan! Haru-chan, maybe you can try his cell phone?" Mitsukuni suggested. Haruhi nodded, pulling out the phone that Hikaru and Kaoru had given her to make the call while Takashi set to cleaning up Mitsukuni's mess before they would leave. There were certainly places they could look and people they could ask that Sirius wouldn't think of.

"Morinozuka-nii-sama, what can I do to help?" Kasanoda had a very serious look on his face (not to say that he didn't always). To Takashi's knowledge the only real interaction between Kasanoda and Harry was due to the latter's pet owl, but any connection was a connection.

"Tell your men to keep an eye out," he stated after a moment of thought. The more manpower they had out looking for Harry, the better. And considering the Kasanoda-gumi's connections...

He really hoped they could find Harry.

That evening was spent mostly with Takashi and Mitsukuni looking where they thought Harry might be, even going so far as to visit the park where Sirius had held Harry's birthday party over the summer, but no luck whatsoever was to be had. Takashi's mother insisted that he come home for dinner and perhaps use the meditation room to sort out his thoughts, and Mitsukuni did the same at his own home.

While he was in the meditation room, Hikaru seemed to appear out of nowhere and asked to spend the night. Takashi set him up in a guest room and gave up his vigil in the meditation room so that Hikaru could ponder his own quandary of love.

Takashi didn't get a single wink of sleep that night – a first considering he always seemed to have a blank-spot in his memory if he stayed up past ten – as he drove through Tokyo all night, trying to think of anywhere Harry might be found. The next morning he returned home in time to rouse Hikaru – having already been to the Haninozuka Compound to wake Mitsukuni and (strangely enough) Kaoru – and change his own clothes for the coming school day. Perhaps he could think of something at school.

Mitsukuni was leading him along to their first class of the morning when a head of messy black hair in the empty hall caught Takashi's attention. And he wasn't the only one to notice. Mitsukuni tackled the younger boy to the ground, crying on him. Takashi wanted to do something too, but he was too relieved to be reprimanding, only sending a stern look at Harry – but still noticeably happier than he had been thirty second before.

With Harry's promise to talk to them during lunch, most of the tension left Takashi's mind.

He woke suddenly in the club room as Mitsukuni roused him roughly three minutes into lunch. Harry had some explaining to do.

_Omake #6: Takes place January 15, 2007, 5:59__pm, in the Ouran Club Room (Chapter 27)_

"You, my princess, are worth far more to me than any words could dare express," the girl's lips were practically quivering as he drew near her, hand on her chin. "That I could but sing out my devotion in this unworthy voice…"

"Tamaki-sama…" the girl crooned, leaning in to hang on his every sugar-laced word.

"Ladies, the Host Club is closing for the day," Kyouya's voice interrupted the touching scene and Tamaki backed away from the young princess gratefully. He didn't have to leave early for any business meetings today, and in an hour Harry would be taking the Host Club to see the pre-game festivities for the Quidditch match they were going to see the next day.

"That fate should be so cruel," Tamaki sighed, sending the girl – a first year student in Haruhi's class – a lamenting smile. She left of course, having received her romancing for the day, and Tamaki set his sights to finding Haruhi. The girl-masquerading-as-a-boy was already clearing off the table she had been sitting at with a group of her regulars who were saying their good-byes. That smile that lit up her eyes just right…

Tamaki shook it off. This was no time to think of his adorable daughter! Well… okay, it always was time to think of his daughter. But first he had to go change from the day's cosplay – they had done an animal theme and he had been a bluebird for some reason – and into the clothes that Harry had suggested for the evening's festivities.

The idea of _magical_ commoner activities was almost too much for his happy little brain to handle.

So he skipped off to the changing room – Kyouya was already coming out, though how he changed from the tiger costume so fast was a mystery – and removed the blue-bird costume. He left just in time to escape the twins' entrance (they were monkeys) and sent a wave to Hani (a bunny of course) since he was strangely bereft of Mori (who was dressed as a wolf or a husky – Tamaki didn't know which) before turning his attention to Haruhi-the-tanuki. She was so adorable!

"Haruhi! You make a much cuter tanuki than Mori-senpai's Pome-chan," he grinned, going in for a cuddle. Sadly, she dodged. "Haruhiiiii! Don't be mean to your father!"

"I already told you Senpai, I never thought of you as my father," she sighed, continuing on to the kitchen. Tamaki pouted.

"Get over it Tamaki, we're going to a magical commoner event today," Kyouya reminded him as he walked by. Tamaki grinned and immediately forgot about the mushrooms he had been cultivating. At least it hadn't been paper for a hamster-cage this time – having just moved into the First Suou Mansion (perhaps his grandmother didn't hate him?), it might not be a good idea to ask if he could actually get a hamster to use the lining for. "Why don't you check to make sure Harry-kun still has the tickets, hm?"

"Yes!" Tamaki sprung away from his Corner of Despair (TM) and went quickly to the side room that Harry had spent the afternoon hiding in. Maybe it was the tweeting of birds in the air or the cherry blossoms falling while the rest of the country might have snow, but Tamaki loved the springs of Ouran, and they tended to make him especially irrational.

Which was saying something.

Tamaki skidded to a stop outside of the side room and straightened up as he heard a solid – but light – thudding sound from within. Harry had probably dropped a book. Well, Tamaki would help him gather his things and –

By opening the door, Tamaki did not expect to see what he saw. In fact, he had never expected to see what he saw.

Hell, he hadn't even known that Mori _liked_ boys!

But it certainly seemed he did. Mori had Harry up against a wall and seemed to be... well... it kind of looked like he was trying to eat Potter's face. More simply put, the pair was making out.

Tamaki turned tomato red and stepped back from the door, closed it silently, and gave himself a moment to get the shocked blush down again before he knocked solidly on the door. When Harry opened the door, Mori could be found leaning on the table, looking not at all mussed. Nor did Harry for that matter.

The only hint that they might have been doing anything was the just-been-snogged-senseless look to the first year's face and a slight tilt to the gray wolf-ears set on Mori's head.

Still, they can't have actually been doing anything... no, it was a trick of his eyes! "Harry-kun, I wanted to make sure everything is still going to go according to plan? And these wizard-people will accept our cards, right?" Tamaki spouted out quickly. He needed to get that image _out of his head_. Not that he had anything against gay people, he just... didn't want to see Mori sticking his tongue down Harry's throat like that.

"Yes, everything is fine," Harry seemed miffed that Tamaki had asked the same questions as he had earlier that day. "All the vendors should have a way to use your card. If not, there are going to be some money-changer stations too."

"Right..." What could distract him? He was just thinking of a way to bow out when he heard the tell-tale signs of the twins harassing _his_ daughter. And he would not let Hikaru woo her. The idea of Haruhi with that fiend... he was off like a rocket before anything more could be said.

Later that evening, as the Hosts wandered the booths of the pre-Quidditch campout (thankfully, they _wouldn't_ be camping out, it wasn't an idea even Tamaki liked), Kyouya came up to Tamaki with all the ease he possessed. "You looked a bit red when you went to check on Harry-kun; any reason?" If Tamaki didn't know better, he might have thought that Kyouya knew what he was going to see... but that was ridiculous!

Still, the light blush that tinged his cheeks was slightly visible in the candle light (there were also "fairy lights" as Harry had called them that zoomed about quickly). "I think... I saw Mori-senpai and Harry-kun doing things that I didn't want to see them doing," he admitted finally.

Kyouya's expression was that of surprise for about half a second before he covered it up. "Don't let it get to you," was all he said before looking at a vendor for moving caricatures.

How very strange.

**Teehee... I had to do both of them this chapter. I was actually going to do The First Kiss as the omake, but then someone suggested Takashi searching for Harry, and I realized I could fit the Valentine's Ball scene which meant I had to explain**_**why**_**Tamaki wasn't surprised****and... well, I had to do them both!**


	32. Chapter 32

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64. **Switches perspectives and scenes frequently (sorry! It was the only way I could show everything I needed to show). **_**Short chapter**_**.**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 32

Albus had tried several methods of extracting information from the muggle, who had quickly learned to not look him in the eye. Morinozuka was very stubborn about that. If Albus tried to force eye contact, he simply closed his eyes as if to take a nap… not that he slept any.

The ex-Headmaster did try to take care of the boy properly of course. He had been a teacher for decades; he had compassion for children and knew that they had to sleep and eat quite a lot. But he also couldn't trust Morinozuka to not try and punch him in the face or something equally unpleasant without influence of the Imperius curse. Given his lack of response to compulsions, that way was iffy. Albus tried feeding the teen by hand, but Morinozuka refused anything offered him, and didn't sleep.

Maybe he knew something more of hostage situations than Dumbledore did; it was entirely possible that he believed the food was laced with truth serums (Dumbledore had none, sadly) or that, if he let his guard down, he would not be able to keep secret whatever he needed to keep secret (which was true, because using legilimancy on a sleeping person was quite easy). The boy was cautious, and rightfully so.

Still, it was unreasonable, and the bags under Morinozuka's eyes and the light roiling sound that came from his stomach was quite notable. It had Dumbledore in a state of distress. Yes, he had abducted Morinozuka, but only because he was trying to get Harry! And he was really being quite hospitable, all things considered.

He was a bit afraid of what Morinozuka might do to him with a spoon though. That idea was bordering on horrific.

Dumbledore's latest attempt at prodding for information – the strongest compulsion short of the Imperius curse itself – was just as unsuccessful as every attempt previous. It was as he was shuffling through his potion stock that he came up with his next idea.

A thick potion, seemingly made of mud or something equally goopy (if that could be considered a word) and a small satchel of hairs from a certain person sat on the shelf, completely innocuous in their appearance (if one considered having a small bag of black hairs or disgusting potions in the medicine cabinet "innocuous"). Albus' eyes gleamed as he plucked the foul brew and hairs. He knew that stealing some of Harry's hairs would be helpful one day! And the Polyjuice was still good for another few years, so there were no worries of an incomplete transformation.

The pleasant shade of blue that came from dropping a few hairs in the potion was quite misleading to its taste, not that Albus had expected any less. He used his wand to transform the stylish (or, in the opinions of anyone BUT Albus Dumbledore, garish) purple robes into some muggle clothing, though it wasn't quite perfect. It was a simple white tea-shirt (the fact that muggles had shirts for drinking tea was quite strange) and black pantaloons. Nondescript, a style that Albus knew Harry prescribed to.

When he entered the room where Morinozuka was being kept, the muggle's eyes darted to him and immediately widened. Albus gleaned a spark of hope using legilimancy.

"Sorry about all this," Albus said, trying to think of Harry's speech patterns. They translated well into the local dialect, and Albus was fairly certain he wouldn't be giving himself away before he had at least learned Harry's address. "Dumbledore-sensei –" well that was odd. "Sensei" was it? Strange... apparently Morinozuka agreed if his lifted eyebrow was any indication. "He didn't mean to harm you. He just had to talk to me is all." He tried to think of any nervous ticks that Harry had and, failing in that, emulated instead the father by ruffling the top of his hair.

Morinozuka gave him a look that was probably meant to mean something only Harry knew. Though the slight lifting of his feet from the couch, despite the fact that he was tied quite securely (how strong was he?!) made it obvious that he wanted to be untied. Perhaps Morinozuka was simply the quiet type.

"Oh, right, we just have to wait for Dumbledore-sensei to get back," Albus ruffled his hair again. He noted how Morinozuka's eyes traced the movement but didn't pay much attention. After a moment, he thought that perhaps Harry wouldn't call Morinozuka by his full name; it was a bit of a mouthful, so he shortened it. "It should only be a while longer, but we can talk for a bit, Mori."

At that the muggle just sort of... shut down and turned his face back to the backside of the couch (a brave thing indeed given the... eccentric coloration). Albus blinked; what was that supposed to mean? He asked this, and Morinozuka replied in an even tone that left the elderly man confounded.

"You aren't Harry," was all he said before leaning back on the armrest of the couch and seemed to start counting ceiling tiles. It was quite a shock to Albus.

What had given him away?

* * *

Harry did not enjoy the rest of the ball – or the segment he stayed for. For about three minutes there was confusion among the fangirls at his accidental proclamation, rushing him asking him things before they caught onto the "kidnapped" part of the statement. Then the girls were trying to find out what happened, asking questions that couldn't be answered… and Takashi's fangirls seemed in a state of confusion.

He left after another half hour to go brood at home since Sirius wasn't letting him help (he'd actually assigned one of Harry's elves to keep him in the house). That didn't stop him from trying though. Every twenty minutes he called Sirius with ideas for finding Takashi; tracking his scent, finding highly warded areas that weren't meant to be, employing a professional tracking team from Korea, whatever he could think of. It was all he was allowed to do, and while some of his ideas were ones that the aurors hadn't thought of (unlike muggle police, they never employed dogs – except Sirius, it seemed – in any search), but none bore fruit.

The next day Harry was a nervous wreck. And Sirius still insisted he go to school. No Haninozuka or Morinozuka was present in any section of Ouran, which made sense as they were family, but Harry had to be there and he couldn't handle it.

The first time someone tried to talk to him – Houshakuji Renge (she apparently wanted material for her doujinshi) – he snapped in such a way that everyone quickly learned that he was not to be messed with. At all.

"Houshakuji-san, if you don't get away from me _right now_, so help me –" He cut himself just shy of Merlin and fixed his offending classmate with a hard glare that had her backing in much the same way that he had seen Tamaki back down from Kyouya. "Go. Away. Now." The "or else" was left unsaid simply because it didn't _need_ to be said.

"But I just –"

"I will not be held responsible for my actions," Harry snapped. As it just so happened, the bell dismissing everyone for lunch rang at that exact moment, freeing Harry from the "class meeting" and the classroom itself. He fled immediately to the gardens and spent the entire period staring at the blooms that were just starting to sprout in the rose-maze. There was no reason behind why he chose this particular location, just that it would allow privacy and – if they were smart – no one would bother following him in.

It was when Harry was calling Hanazaka about the change in the usual plans – in that he was heading straight home instead of staying at school until the clubs were letting out for the day – that he thought of something. Something that had likely been overlooked.

Wherever Dumbledore was, it wasn't magical enough to show as an anomaly to Ministry scanners. That meant that it wasn't too magical to allow electronics to work, since the Ministry used an electric feed to monitor ambient magic levels around the country (a genius idea, really).

And cell phones could be tracked when they were off. Haruhi's kidnapping had proven that.

* * *

"You aren't very cooperative," the old man wearing garish yellow robes stated grumpily.

Takashi ignored him.

"The sooner you actually talk to me, the sooner you will be allowed to leave."

Still nothing.

It was obvious that he was getting to the old man. It was a small triumph, but a triumph none the less. Takashi continued studying the cloth work of the strange couch he had been put on, though he must have memorized it over the past two days. He raked his eyes over the gaudy designs of irises and continued to ignore Dumbledore.

He was more than a little fed up with the situation, but until he had either his hands or his feet (preferably both) freed from the ropes the old man had conjured, there was nothing he could do beyond be purposefully annoying in his own manner. It was a small victory, but a victory none the less.

It was also a small ounce of pay-back. Dumbledore had attempted to be Harry on what he assumed was Sunday, and there was no forgiveness for _that_. Takashi had been caught up in it for all of ten seconds. His first hint that it was not Harry was the monotone to his wardrobe. While Harry wasn't one for outrageous styles, he never wore just black and white. In fact, he was fairly certain that Harry didn't own any white t-shirts.

The second thing was that Harry called Dumbledore "Dumbledore-sensei". Whenever he had referred to the old man it was either with the English title of "Professor" or simply as Dumbledore. Sensei was only used for the doctors he worked with and the teachers at Ouran.

Also, the old man pretending to be Takashi's boyfriend hadn't caught the cue he'd given him – one he knew that Harry would have caught onto immediately – regarding his cell phone. Then he'd gone and ruffled the top of his hair – messing it up further, which he knew Takashi hated – rather than Harry's habit of rubbing the back of his neck. Takashi knew body-language quite well, and Dumbledore's was quite different from Harry's.

All of that was permissible, but still had Takashi on edge. Then there was the whole "calling-Takashi-by-his-last-name" thing that Dumbledore kept doing. He suspected the old man didn't realize that family names came first in Japan, but he wasn't about to correct him. The use of "Mori" - something that Harry hadn't so much as mistakenly started to utter since early in the month - was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Things were not looking very good for the Wild Type Host. First off, he wasn't eating anything. He refused to eat anything that this Dumbledore tried to feed him – the idea of being spoon-fed was more than a bit off to him, and Dumbledore seemed to have enough of a sense of self-preservation to realize not to allow Takashi the use of his hands – and sleep was a definite no-no. Takashi had never been kidnapped, but he remembered a few years ago when Mitsukuni's older sister Hitomi had been held for ransom. Of course, the kidnapper hadn't expected Hitomi to beat his face in with the chair she was tied to while she was sitting in it.

But that was beside the point; Takashi didn't have that opportunity. No, to point was that Hitomi had been drugged by her captor for the first two days because she fell asleep and the kidnapper had dribbled some drugged water into her mouth. So Takashi couldn't make that same mistake.

He had to get back to everyone – most importantly Mitsukuni, Harry, and Satoshi (in no particular order) – and he really had to get away from this old guy. It was bad for his health _and_ his eyes. How the man seemed to think that yellow robes should be worn with an orange-trimmed baby-blue hat…

Takashi made sure to keep his gaze far away from Dumbledore. He knew from the clock on the opposite wall that it had been two days since his kidnapping. Even though the clock itself seemed to use planets to tell the time, the passing of days was symbolized by the clock face being blue to indicate day-time and back with white dots for the night.

It was hardly any comfort since he knew Dumbledore had only just that morning issued his demands for Takashi's return, having seemingly given up on pressing him for information.

Though Takashi was certain Harry would accept the demands immediately – they were quite alike when it came to anyone else being in danger, as Takashi knew from hearing about Harry's escapades – he hoped that Harry wouldn't, or that someone could keep him from taking them. He did not like what Dumbledore seemed to think that Fate had in store for Harry, and any way to fight what was supposedly "fated" to happen, in this instance, was something Takashi wanted very, very much.

After all, how many boys wanted their boyfriend (or anyone wanted their significant other) to be turned into a poster-boy robot?

* * *

"It probably won't work," Sirius sighed, leaning on the counter of the auror break-room. He wasn't actually allowed into the Japanese Auror Corps. HQ, considering he wasn't actually an auror, but for some reason the aurors thought highly of him. Part of it probably had to do with his reputation from his own auror training (glowing reports from Moody of all people!) and the fact that he managed to evade that same Ministry with something so simple as an animagus form without getting caught.

To be fair, the English aurors were – for the most part – more than a little incompetent. But he had still been of some use the last time he got himself tangled up in a case (though the fact that he'd had to tell Harry he was going out drinking all of last April was kind of embarrassing, as well as his departure to Ireland all of a sudden in July when he volunteered to follow a murder suspect). So, hopefully, he wouldn't prove to be totally useless.

"Why not? It seems like a pretty valid idea to me," Watanabe shrugged, pouring a mug of coffee for himself. "If we can't detect him, then Dumbledore can't have too much magic up. Tracking the Morinozuka boy's cell phone could work."

"Well yeah, but not all companies can track phones without the phone being used at the time," Sirius started ticking off negative points on his fingers. "Plus, no one has tested the affect of portkeys on cell phones. Portkeys put out a lot more magic than apparition, and just a few of those can kill a phone. And his phone might have died by now. We don't know when the last time he charged it was, how charged it was at the time of his kidnapping, how quickly it runs through power when not in use, or even if Dumbledore knows about phones and took his off of him. The chances of this actually working…"

The deputy auror, Fukushima Tarou, walked into the break-room, a large grin plastered on his face. "You jinxed it Black," he stated, drawing up a map on the laptop set on the island counter. "I just got off the line with the Morinozuka family's cell phone provider. They gave me a fix on Takashi's. You may bow to my greatness. And probably put some more faith in your godson."

"This place is a dump," another auror, Kato Megumi, stated as she leaned over the computer. "About three miles west of the city. From what little I know of Dumbledore Albus, he wouldn't set up shop in a literal dump. Not even Transfiguration can get rid of that smell."

Sirius glared at Fukushima for the jibe at his treatment of Harry – after Dumbledore's demands arrived, it only made him know all the more that his keeping Harry out of this was a good decision – and turned his attention to the map. The glowing red dot that signified the phone was indeed situated in a dump, as they quickly found when they zoomed in on the point. The only thing wrong with the satellite image was a slight blurring.

Definitely magic.

"Kato-san, get to drawing up an attack plan," Watanabe demanded when he pulled away from the press of people looking at the map. "Black, you can officially tell Potter-san that he's given us something to work with. I would suggest not telling him Dumbledore's terms until after we've figured out if we can get Morinozuka back though; we don't need the kid to be rash."

Sirius nodded somberly. He wasn't going to tell Harry anything, actually; he didn't need to know in case something went wrong. And not telling Dumbledore's terms was a given at this point. Harry was already in a snit, if what Kyouya had told him had any truth to it, and telling him what Dumbledore wanted...

The only outcomes were Harry blowing a gasket or immediately agreeing.

The terms themselves were less than stellar. First and foremost, Dumbledore wanted Harry to rescind his derogatory statements regarding the ex-Headmaster. That would be fine if it were the only term. Dumbledore also wanted Harry to pose with him for photo ops, help him regain all previous positions on power, sever all ties with Japan, start training to become an auror, shut down Potter-Evans and Potter Productions – the two Potter industries that interacted most with muggles – go back to being friends with Ron, sign a marriage contract with Ginny (this one could be waved given Harry's sexual preferences, but Dumbledore demanded that Harry marry a Weasley anyway), and generally act as though the last year and a half since Voldemort's defeat never happened.

And if Harry knew that Dumbledore had declared the price of Takashi's freedom, he would probably take it, too.

Sirius sighed and called Ranka to cancel their date for the evening. He had spent the past few weeks trying to convince Ranka and Haruhi to move in with him – or for them to move into an apartment together since they found his mansion ridiculous (hell, Sirius found it ridiculous!) – but so far no luck. Still, he was hoping for the cross-dressing father-daughter pair to give in.

He almost chuckled, remembering Haruhi giving him the third degree about dating her father while they were still in the "just friends" stage back in Spring. Maybe he should have done the "meeting the godfather" thing for Takashi since Harry had to "meet the parents," but he wasn't quite mean enough. He almost felt sorry for the future significant-others of Haruhi's children.

"The plan is simple," Sirius' head snapped up to listen to Kato. "Dumbledore is stronger than us and more experienced than us, so we overwhelm him with numbers. Watanabe-taichou, I figure our team would take the North while Chosokabe-taichou would take the East, Heike-taichou the West, Tanuma-taichou the South, and Asukikaga-taichou's team would be on observation and back-up." That was quite a lot of people; auror teams contained seven people, meaning they were going to bring in 35 fully trained aurors (plus Sirius) to take down Dumbledore. But Kato was a strategist through and through. Not much use in a duel due to a lame knee, but a tactical genius.

"Alright. I'll get them in here and you can tell everyone what we're doing," Watanabe rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Getting this past Date will be halfway impossible, but I'm pretty sure the whole 'International criminal who nearly revealed the magical world to muggles over the course of two seconds' will get him. If not..." he sent his glance to Sirius. "If not, you still shouldn't tell the kid about the demands. I'll be back when I can be."

Sirius sighed and leaned against the counter again, waiting for the Captains to all make their way in with their deputies. While it was terribly nice of Watanabe to let him in on all of this – no way in Hell was he going to stand by when he was keeping Harry out of it – it could hardly be convenient for the actual aurors to do the meeting in the break room.

Still, he paid attention as Kato explained the full situation and her plan to the Captains. This... was going to be unpleasant. But it was better than Harry being depressed or becoming a poster boy for the Light and whatever else Dumbledore had in mind.

But damn if things weren't complicated.

* * *

Being under effective house arrest, Harry decided, was very, _very_ boring. All he could do was agonize. He had exams in three weeks, which meant he ought to be studying (considering he had two sets of them to take), but he couldn't because all he could think about was Takashi and how Dumbledore had him and what he would do to get Takashi back. He'd tried making a list, but he hadn't been able to think of anything he _wouldn't_ do, so that project was scratched.

Not for the first time that evening, Harry picked his phone out of his pocket and set it in the middle of his math workbook. With every other idea Harry had given for finding Takashi, Sirius had called him back within the hour about whether or not it was feasible and to tell him that it hadn't worked. Surely it couldn't take more than two hours to figure out if Takashi's cell phone could be tracked?

Then again, it was a foregone conclusion after forty-eight hours that Harry's ideas simply were not going to cut it, especially when he couldn't bring himself to eat – it wouldn't stay down – or sleep – he was too busy worrying and the tenseness did nothing to help him in visiting Morpheus.

In a burst of anger – not uncommon over the past two days, much as many wished otherwise – Harry threw his workbook away from himself. Unfortunately, his phone was still sitting in the crease, and it did not survive the impact with the wall. Two phones already this year. Harry swore and buried his face in a pillow at the end of the couch.

No need to send Hedwig on to Sirius anyway. He had promised to drop by before his date with Ranka that evening, which meant sometime in the next half hour, so they could get Harry a new phone sometime the next day.

Tipsy, Dinky, and Rory all tried to get Harry to eat or sleep, but to no avail. When the pestering got to be too much, Harry ended up shouting something indistinct and seeking refuge in the greenhouses where he glared at the Laughing Lilies for going into their Spring Snickers. If it weren't for the fact that they were _Laughing_ Lilies, he might have held their schadenfreude against them; as it was, he knew they were actually being sensitive, sentient flowers that they were, considering they weren't Guffawing. Though they would be better for potions with a bit of Hilarity in their systems.

There seemed to be no freedom however, as the house elves followed him. Eventually Harry was tempted to go into the third greenhouse – a suicidal mission – but he refrained, reasoning that Sirius would give in and let him do something to help soon. Anything was better than this monotony and the constant ache (admittedly, it could be attributed to the fact that the last thing he had eaten was half a package of gummy worms and some popcorn on Saturday, and the fact that he hadn't slept a wink).

When the door to the second green house opened, Harry sighed and picked himself up off the ground. How Sirius could be so late? His date with Ranka should have started – Harry glanced at his watch – two hours ago. Even Sirius wasn't _that_ into being fashionably late. Harry trudged his way to the entrance.

"It's about time you got here Sirius," Harry called as he approached. The least he could do was irk his guardian (even though they didn't live together…). "Is there anything new about Takashi? You never got back to me about…"

He trailed off as the party he was addressing came into view. Except this person was a good three inches taller than the person he meant to be talking too, had darker skin, gray eyes rather than blue, and his eyes were raking over Harry desperately, an action the Boy-Who-Lived returned for about three seconds.

Then he ran forward and glomped his boyfriend.

Takashi managed to catch Harry and not fall – quite a feat all things considered. Harry felt quite a bit better with his face buried in Takashi's shoulder and Takashi's arms wrapped around him. He could feel that Takashi had pressed face into Harry's hair, and a sharp inhale made Harry hug Takashi all the closer.

He wouldn't call what they had love. He liked Takashi; he liked Takashi a _lot_. He had been completely unbalanced while Dumbledore had Takashi and it had been all he could think about for the past two days. But he honestly had no idea what love was like. Pretty darn close though, he was positive.

"Don't you do something stupid like that again," Harry groused as he pulled his face out of Takashi's shirt. He had Takashi's scent – fainter than it usually was, but that made sense since he smelled like he hadn't bathed in a couple of days – firmly entrenched in his senses and, now that he was completely assured that Takashi was back, he decided the older boy needed to take a shower or a bath immediately.

There was no chance that Takashi could get out of it either, when Harry dragged him back to the house and shoved him into a guest room's bathroom and told him to clean up.

Then he went back downstairs to deal with getting them both some food. Why? Well, Harry was hungry – and now that Takashi was safe he allowed himself to actually think on how he'd been neglecting himself to past couple days (thankfully, hygiene was not neglected) – and it was about seven. He was surprised to find the kitchen bereft of house elves when he arrived, however, and rather than pull them away from whatever Sirius must have had them doing, he figured he could cook. He'd made sure that at least a portion of the kitchens was done the muggle way at least, so he wasn't completely lost.

He made some spaghetti, nothing complicated, and retrieved Takashi. The fact that his boyfriend's stomach made a growling noise as soon as they reached the smell-zone made him realize that Takashi probably hadn't eaten anything Dumbledore would have given him. Harry was proud of him for it, but very worried.

It was only when they were both properly fed that Harry allowed himself to ask anything. Such as how he had gotten away from Dumbledore, why he had come to Harry first, and how Dumbledore treated him the whole time.

The answering took a while, but it could be summed up thusly:

Takashi had been laying out on Dumbledore's couch, ignoring the latest question-and-don't-answer session, when the old man had suddenly stopped talking and left the room. There had been a series of shouts, explosions, thuds, and various signs of fighting including some brightly colored spells going through the walls. Then there had been silence and Sirius had released Takashi from his bindings.

Also, Harry's home was not the first stop. First, Takashi had to go to the Auror Department and supply his memories of the abduction and everything that happened after (a strange experience to say the least). After that Sirius had taken Takashi back home where many a happy Morinozuka and Haninozuka had given him a hero's welcome before he was whisked away to the Host Club to reassure his friends of his freedom and continued existence. Apparently Sirius had thought Harry would be there as well – it was Monday after all – and had then apparated Takashi to Harry's home. Upon finding out from three nearly-apoplectic house elves that Harry was moping in the greenhouses and refusing to eat or sleep (something that worried Takashi), Sirius had sent Takashi on and gone off somewhere with the elves.

As for his treatment, Takashi was tight-lipped. Harry supposed he could wait to hear about it at Dumbledore's trial, whenever it ended up being.

After that, Takashi seemed to take his own pleasure in making sure that Harry was really there, much like Harry had in tackling the older boy. Only it involved lips quite a lot more. And making Harry moan.

The world was back to rights, it seemed.

**Author's Note: Yay Obama! ((cough)) Onto important things! Yes, Takashi's rescue was anti-climactic. It was supposed to be. You won't be seeing the climax for another... maybe two, three weeks? Yeah, it's that close. Next chapter could be considered filler I guess... but it's also going to have some cute moments, so don't worry. And, gee, aren't you guys lucky I have so many days off this month? Next Tuesday, all of Thanksgiving week... well, plenty of writing. Plus my dad is in the UK all the second half of the month, so I'll be losing track of time and writing late into the night for a couple weeks. Yay!**

**... Doesn't make me any less twitchy about actually finishing this story though. Holy. Hell. I'm aiming to finish it by the end of the month. I will have it done before New Year no matter what.**

**Chapter 65 of the manga came out. Made me glad that I'm completely discounting anything past 64.**

**Joined NaNoWriMo, but I'm using it more to make myself finish this. I didn't write this at all until Tuesday, not to say that I was off task. I was actually going to take a vacation of sorts (no writing, blahblahblah), but instead I wrote five one-shots. Two Ouran (Mori/Harry and Neko/Haru) and three HP (in The Nargles Made Me Do It) if you're interested.**

_Omake #7: 9:12 am, January 3, 2007 (between Chapter 24 and Chapter 25) (a)_

Takashi had escaped his fellow Hosts – for the moment. It was the third attempt at visiting the shrines as a club, and for the third time in a row, Tamaki had failed to show up.

Not that Takashi minded overmuch. He had known for three days now that Harry liked him back in the same manner, and today he had finally managed to do something about it (not that he hadn't spent the past few days since that revelation trying, today was merely the success). He couldn't keep the small smile off of his face, which had led to some questions he didn't care to answer.

Thus why he had shaken his friends off.

If he was going to be Harry's boyfriend – Takashi was fairly certain that was how it worked and how he wanted it to be – then he had to know what he was doing. The whole "pushing Harry against a wall and snogging him" thing had been completely spontaneous and, while pleasant, it was pretty obvious that neither of them knew what they were doing. It would be nice to actually have that knowledge.

In the car on the way to the temples, Takashi sent a text message to Renge (after inputting a special code that made the message anonymous, but still allowed for a reply) asking for good source material on homosexual relationships. If anyone he knew would know, it was Renge. Well, so would Sirius and Ranka, but the idea of asking two grown men was somehow more embarrassing than a girl who was two years younger than him. When the reply came back asking if he meant shounen-ai or yaoi, Takashi had nearly blushed.

Instead, he thought on it and, deciding "to hell with it," Takashi replied with "both." The list was quite long.

He picked some promising titles from both lists and gave the other Hosts the slip with the excuse of needed the lavatory. In only two minutes, he found himself in front of the nearest book shop. Maybe it would have been a bit less suspicious had he skulked to the appropriate section rather than walking in his usual gait at his usual (impressive) height. But that was the curse of being as tall as he was; if he tried to make himself unnoticeable, he was more so and if he just went on his regular way he was often ignored (b).

Manga were plucked from the shelf as he found them, and as soon as he had an impressive stack – at least twenty volumes tall, if not more – he stalked up to the counter and set the stack neatly in front of the clerk. As luck would have it, the clerk in question was a young woman, probably only a little older than Takashi himself, who jumped as the nearly-pornographic (and some of it actually was pornographic) manga that was set at her work station. She also happened to gawk at the young – not to mention tall, handsome, and obviously rich – man who was apparently buying the aforementioned manga. As Takashi's gaze fell on her, she blushed prettily. Not that Takashi really noticed.

"A-are you sure these are the manga you want?" She asked. Takashi didn't answer, though he did raise a quizzical eyebrow at the question. "It's just that... these are girl manga."

Girl manga? "My mistake – I thought it was yaoi." Takashi was puzzled by Renge's information being apparently incorrect, but mostly he was wondering why the check-out girl (the irony being that she was the only one checking out) had a nosebleed as she scanned his purchases.

Not even Mitsukuni asked to see what was in the book bags – thankfully – and Takashi learned just how far off some perceptions (both his own and others) were as he read his new manga.

He also learned what many children seemed to know instinctively; under-the-bed was a great place to hide things.

_Omake #8: 6:43 pm, August 7, 2006 (Chapter 9)_

Haruhi wasn't entirely certain that she had heard correctly, though she had no reason to doubt her own ears.

Just an hour before, Sirius had announced that he and Harry (though Haruhi's reclusive class mate was only finding it out the same time as Haruhi herself) would be taking Haruhi and her father out to dinner that night. In the past months since meeting Sirius, Haruhi knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was a bit crazy – like any rich person – spontaneous, and really quite a nice guy. Of all the rich people she had met – a number that grew in leaps and bounds in the past five months since applying to Ouran – only he, Harry, and perhaps Mori were capable of living a completely unglamorous life. Sirius and Harry already were.

Now that she thought of it, Haruhi knew Sirius better than any of the men her father had dated in the past few years, and Sirius was just a friend from the bar and a neighbor. It was strange to consider that her father could be "just friends" with Sirius for any length of time (for the man was most certainly gay, if his frequenting the okama bar "to keep Ranka company" and the constant flirting were any indication, and both men seemed to fit well together, even to Haruhi).

Not that Haruhi really minded her father's boyfriends much to begin with. For the most part they were boring and had a tendency to disrupt her school work with inane questions. They also had a habit of talking down to her. Because of this, she preferred to ignore them – even if she did cook for them on occasion – and, now she thought of it, that might be why her father went through men so quickly.

However, ever since the first time her father had brought Sirius down for dinner in early May, he hadn't brought anyone else home either, or mentioned going on a date with anyone. On that occasion, Haruhi had managed to converse more than usual during dinner. Sirius had treated her like a complete equal, not judging by age or gender, and was an interesting person as Haruhi had soon found. He had brought a batch of cookies that his godson had baked (not that Haruhi knew what "godson" meant at the time) and had surprised the girl by informing her that the one who had made the cookies in question was her class' anti-social foreigner and her silent companion on the train.

She had been drawn into conversation without even realizing it, and Sirius had popped by the Fujioka apartment a few more times for dinner (usually when Harry was "in a tizzy" as Sirius put it).

So maybe it really wasn't such a surprise.

Though she had been surprised when the Hosts (or Tamaki at any rate) had been prepared to actually stop Sirius from taking Haruhi and her father to dinner. And Sirius had seemed to expect it, calling in extra reservations as if it was nothing. All the thinking involved with this made her completely ignore the ease with which Sirius managed to get another six seats at the obviously high quality restaurant (given the five-star rating).

Mostly, she had been thinking about Harry. Sirius wasn't exactly subtle in his request for the Hosts to try and make friends with the boy – he was apparently exchanging emails with Kyouya for progress reports – and Harry wasn't exactly subtle in his rejection of any friendly actions.

Haruhi could count her classmate's willing interactions with the Host Club (or anyone really) on one hand, and some of those – the Karuizawa trip, the Hide-and-Seek Incident that Hikaru told her about, the Birthday Party (which was only counted as "willing" in that he didn't run when he had the chance), and any interaction with Nekozawa (Tamaki insisted that he must have cursed Harry to get someone so normal in his club) – were suspect. Attempts at socializing with Harry just didn't seem to work, though he seemed a bit less stiff as of late.

Harry was probably as socially stunted as Haruhi, if not more so, and at least as independent. But he was also actively keeping away from other people. It wasn't that he was incapable of being social – far from it, for whenever he _was_ social he was, for the most part, quite adept at it – but that he seemed to not _want_ to be himself around anyone. He was plenty well adjusted, he would have to be considering he was raised with Sirius in his life (c), but he just didn't act as though social endeavors were something he could – or would – freely engage in.

Maybe he just didn't like the Hosts. But if that were that case, she knew he could find a better place to study. Harry made no sense to Harry, and she hated to admit it, but because of that she had a habit of dismissing him out of hand. Perhaps she could try harder at fulfilling Sirius' hopes to at least pull Harry out of his shell.

All thoughts of the messy-haired youth, however, were struck from Haruhi's mind when she arrived at the flat to find her father holding two dress-bags on hangers, one obviously for her. Both bought by Sirius. Yet another instance to remind her that Sirius was every bit as rich as the boys she hung about with and not the regular guy he seemed to be.

It also made her wonder if her father had somehow found himself a sugar-daddy. Mind, it would be a strange way to go about it considering Ryoji – Haruhi wouldn't think of her father as "Ranka"; it was too weird even for her – was actually the older of the two, but the principle was the same.

"It was Sirius' idea to have you kids supervise," prattled the elder cross-dresser as he put in his earrings. "Said it wasn't right to have a first date completely unsupervised. Apparently his friends used to always spy on him at a first date to make sure they liked whatever man he was dating and it sounded like such a cute idea. Harry-kun really ought to get out more, too."

"Dating?" Haruhi asked. It was already second nature to fix the extensions in her hair the way that Hikaru and Kaoru had taught her, and she was doing it on her own without too much trouble. However, the word "date" had caught her attention enough to pause the actions.

"Oh, didn't I mention before? It must have slipped my mind," he chuckled slightly, embarrassed. "Sirius and I decided to give a relationship a try. You don't mind, do you?"

Haruhi wondered for a moment if her ears were playing tricks, but she knew to trust them.

It really wasn't that surprising.

"No; he's quite nice."

Haruhi did not catch the happy reaction on her father's face. She had never actually _approved_ of a boyfriend before.

**I have a lot of omake to write... so I've officially bumped it up to 2 per chapter. But you can send in requests until I've posted the final chapter (discounting omake chapter – like I said, lots to write so that'll take a while to get up - and epilogue(s)). So probably from now until the end of the month is left… Should I show a list of omake I'm writing? Hm... maybe later.**

(a) It was going to be #8, but 7 is the most magical number... so the funny omake got to go first.

(b) And compared to furniture. Sexiest couch I've ever seen ;-)

(c) This is a few hours before the Hosts find out that Harry was raised by "commoners" rather than Sirius or his parents.


	33. Chapter 33

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64. **Short... again.**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 33

When Sirius' missive arrived, Harry couldn't do much more than be aggravated. Of course, he was tempted to ignore the letter altogether – the summons itself was interrupting his Takashi-time – to punish Sirius for not allowing him to do anything other than sit about while the "grown-ups" went on to finding Takashi (and considering Harry was the one to give them the successful idea...).

But he was going to go anyway. Even though he mourned the loss of contact with Takashi, he wasn't even going to show up rumpled to make Sirius realize he'd interrupted a nice snogging session. Sure, it might be funny, but knowing Sirius he would just laugh it off himself and poke fun at Harry until the younger wizard was blushing so bad that he was in danger of having all the blood vessels in his face popping. Not such a good idea.

The letter itself was fairly normal, aside from the fact that it was a letter (though it was nice to see Hedwig getting some exercise beyond her visits to Kasanoda). A strip of parchment requesting that Harry and Takashi go to Sirius' home ASAP, though for Hedwig to have gotten there Sirius must have sent the letter just as he got home.

Blaming him for bad timing was a bit more difficult that way. Though Harry really wanted to get to sleep soon, if he couldn't have Takashi all to himself for the evening, he decided they might as well go.

"I'll call Hanazaka to give us a lift then," Harry sighed when it was apparent that Takashi wasn't going to let him ignore the letter (mostly because Takashi was petting Hedwig). He pulled out his phone, but Takashi stopped him.

"We could go by the fire," he suggested, and Harry couldn't help but to look curiously at his boyfriend. Takashi... well, to say that he had enjoyed any of his previous experiences with magical travel would be an exaggeration. Worse, each of the methods available for muggle use (as muggles didn't have significant magical power to keep a broom afloat) had been sprung on him without warning. From what he had been told, two of those methods had made him physically ill, which was not a great sign. For him to actually request to go by floo... Harry wasn't sure what to think of it, but he nodded.

With a handful of pale green powder tossed into the already crackling flames, Harry pulled Takashi into the large fireplace with him, green fingers of fire crawling up their legs. A single cry of "Japan Black Manor Atrium!" and they were spinning along with Harry holding tightly onto his boyfriend to make sure they didn't swing wide.

Somehow, when Harry stepped out of the fireplace, tugging Takashi along behind him, he hadn't been expecting Sirius' normally mauve Atrium to be quite so... colorful. Then again, he hadn't expected it to be full of people either.

It seemed that Sirius had decided to throw Takashi a "we're glad you aren't in Dumbledore's custody anymore" party, and Harry wanted very much to slam his head into a wall. Mostly because, since he wasn't getting alone time with Takashi, he just wanted to sleep, and getting knocked out was the next best thing.

Only two steps out from the fireplace, Takashi was attacked by an over-enthusiastic Hani and Satoshi, which caused Harry to have to take a step back.

"Practically had to surgically remove them earlier," Sirius laughed, appearing from seemingly nowhere (but really he had been standing next to the fireplace... not that Harry really bothered with that). "But it was necessary..." he paused, looking at Takashi. "Why is his hair wet?"

Harry gave his godfather a _look_. "I made him take a shower..." He gave Sirius a strange look as the older male giggled. He didn't want to know.

Okay, so it made a sort of sense for Sirius to be an idiot and throw a party (on a school night) because Takashi was safe. He always did strange things like that; he'd even thrown Harry a birthday party of all things back in August (1). Sirius was the sort of person who did things like that, no matter how superfluous it was. Still, it was a nice gesture... sort of.

It was also the night that Satoshi, Yasuchika, and Kanazuki Reiko discovered that Haruhi was a girl. Not that any of them particularly cared – Reiko had at least suspected considering she would have seen the articles that counted a _girl_ among them, as well as the fact that Nekozawa knew, and Satoshi and Yasuchika might have kind-of noticed on Saturday – but it was an important moment in some ways.

After only about half an hour, Takashi started acting... goofy. Where before he had had a reserved smile as he dealt with his friends and family, suddenly he was being quite open with a large smile. Practically Tamaki-ish.

By the time anyone had noticed, it was too late as Takashi had already marched over to where Harry was trying his hardest to be unnoticeable in the festivities. He had also been intending to take a nap if possible (Sirius would remove him to "his" room if he ever noticed), but Takashi sitting next to him suddenly rather caught his attention. So did the fact that he seemed to decide that cuddling Harry was a fun activity. Not that Harry minded particularly, but the looks they were getting from everyone else around the room were more than a little disconcerting.

"Takashi," Harry said. He had to move slightly to accommodate the arms that were winding about his waist, and he really just wanted an explanation as to why Takashi was being so... strange all of a sudden. Was it really as Hani said? "What are you doing?"

"Don't be silly, Harry," Takashi nuzzled Harry's shoulder, and the young wizard was having a difficult time not blushing. "I'm cuddling you."

_I'm not the one being silly,_ Harry thought privately, but he opted not to voice that particular notion. Instead he shifted to get comfortable.

"I can tell that much." Why did he feel like he was talking to a little kid all of a sudden? "What I meant is 'why are you doing that?'" They had cuddled in private, but thus far they hadn't actually given any outward indication of their couple status... well, except for holding hands the one time and Takashi's subtle moves that seemed completely platonic to anyone on the outside, but it was still kind of embarrassing...

Of course, this was only compounded by Takashi's reply.

"You smell good." Yes, Harry could feel the blush burning under his cheeks again. Why did he have to blush so easily? It only made embarrassing situations more so.

"He got tired," came a sigh from Satoshi. "Kind of a waste if he won't even remember all this..." He and Hani hadn't had to be "surgically removed" as Sirius claimed they had earlier, but he had been sticking close to his brother. Harry suspected at this point it was more likely that Takashi would have to be "surgically removed."

Harry sent Satoshi a curious look and tried to ignore that Takashi seemed to be trying to burrow his had into Harry's neck. "He won't remember this?" Hani had said that when Takashi became sleepy he tended to get a little weird (also known as emotive and affection), and Harry had seen that with his own eyes once, but no one had mentioned memory going faulty when it happened.

"No, whenever Taka-nii gets sleepy – unless he's all worked up over something – he does this and he doesn't remember when he wakes up," Satoshi expounded. Harry jumped when Takashi nipped lightly at the side of his neck, but didn't allow himself to react otherwise. "I thought he was getting tired over there a few minutes ago, but it's kind of obvious now."

"I'll say," Harry refrained from moving his head. Everyone just seemed entertained by the display at this point – considering just about all those present (it was just the Hosts and the immediate family of Takashi and Hani) knew about Harry and Takashi's relationship it was little surprise – and he decided that trying to think of a proper solution was too difficult when his mind was telling him to just go to sleep. He relayed the message to Takashi.

Takashi did not reply, nor did he adjust his position at all. Harry couldn't move his own head due to the position Takashi had chosen for snuggling, but he had a feeling that he knew what had happened.

"He fell asleep, didn't he?" Harry asked with a sigh. Sirius' grin and the light chuckling from a good portion of the room said it all.

On the bright side, Takashi didn't snore, so Harry had no problem joining him in dreamland.

* * *

_**Dumbledore's Plot: Black's Freedom  
Dumbledore's attempt at professional crime; Lord Black finally cleared**_

_by Takahashi Kana – 16 February, 2007_

_On February 13, the once-hero of the Light, Dumbledore Albus (Order of Merlin first class, Chief Mugwump, etc, all since rescinded), kidnapped close personal friend of Potter Harry, Morinozuka Takashi, in the middle of a busy Tokyo street. Having nearly revealing the magical world to muggles by using a portkey, there are many who believe Dumbledore should be removed from wizarding society all together._

_Dumbledore is to be charged with one-thousand three hundred and twelve breaches of the Statute of Secrecy, one count of abduction, one count of attempted abduction, two accounts of assault on a muggle, thirteen counts of resisting arrest, twenty counts of failure to comply with a court mandate, conspiracy, and various other charges yet to be released to the public. His case will be presented to the International Confederation of Wizards at their meeting on the first of the next month._

_For his aid in the arrest of Dumbledore and rescue of the muggle Morinozuka Takashi, British Minister for Magic Fudge Cornelius has issued a statement that Lord Black is cleared of all charges. Black was cleared by Ireland in late November of 2005 and in Japan not even two weeks shy of a year._

"_It's a long time in coming," says Lord Black in a special interview, "but I don't really mind. I actually like Japan better; I have Ranka, no one has treated me like a murderer, and even though my only remaining family – the part of it that isn't out for my life and that of my godson that is – still live in Britain, I'd say I'm pretty well set here. Though it is nice to know that the next time I visit I won't have to do so in secret."_

_Lord Black has been highly forgiving of the British Ministry for falsely imprisoning him for nearly twelve years and the "Kiss on Sight" order that has been in effect for more than three years. The only restitution Black has requested on part of the British Ministry was to hold the trial of Pettigrew Peter at the earliest convenience and to stop sending Ministry officials to his homes internationally in search of Potter._

"_I know Harry's an important kid; no one knows that more than I do. But he's still a kid!" stated Black fervently when the subject was breached. "The Wizarding World needs to find something else to fixate on. Harry and I want a normal life, and as is we both have a lot of catching up to do."_

_In that same interview, Potter expressed his own exasperation._

"_I never asked for fame," he said, "especially not for something that killed my parents. Did you know that when I was introduced to the wizarding world, I was swarmed by people? There was hardly any breathing room and people were talking over each other – and my guide didn't think to pull me out of that for a good ten minutes. Not that I blame him, but people seem to assume that I enjoy it. I don't like enclosed spaces, I don't like being surrounded by an excess of noise, and I've had to deal with that. I know my statements last month were insensitive, but so were the actions of my fans."_

_Potter also disclosed some of what happened in the kidnapping, stating that Morinozuka was acting in his defense when the Headmaster abducted him. "Dumbledore meant to go for me, but Takashi pulled him off of me at the last moment. I can't thank him enough for that, but I can't help but be mad at him for it as well for putting himself in danger. I can forgive Takashi for that; Dumbledore, however, I cannot."_

_Potter and Black promise to accompany Morinozuka Takashi to the hearing of Dumbledore, and what happens from there remains to be seen._(2)

"'Kiss?'" Takashi asked as he read the article. It was after school on Tuesday, just before the Host Club was to open for the day. Takashi had been welcomed back to Ouran as a hero, and everyone was keen to ask just what had happened. So far, none of the fangirls had asked about their relationship, but it was only a matter of time.

On the bright side, it seemed that Takashi wasn't as oblivious as believed, as he seemed to remember at least _some_ of the cuddling his had sleepily instigated the night before.

"The Dementor's Kiss is the worst fate possible," Harry explained. "With it, a dementor can literally steal your soul from your still breathing body. At that point you just become a shell of a person, like someone in a coma but still capable of basic motor functions. Dementors are used to guard the higher security wizarding prisons in the more... archaic sects of the wizarding world." Such as Britain. Most countries had moved on from such torturous methods. "Just being in their presence makes people relive their worst memories."

Takashi didn't reply and flipped through the rest of the paper before he set it down. There wasn't anything else terribly interesting in it. The other Hosts fell upon it, curious to see what the paper said – naturally, Kyouya got to it first, though the rest of the Club had no compunctions in reading over his shoulder. Why they hadn't looked on as Takashi read (not even Hani had) was a mystery.

"Harry-chan, when did you and Siri-chan have time to do an interview?" Hani asked. "This paper came out today..."

"It was the wizarding equivalent of a telephone interview that Sirius and I did this morning while I was getting ready for school," Harry explained. "This is the evening edition of the paper that Sirius got an advance copy of and gave me during lunch. It's nothing special, but we figured that a bit of rabble-rousing was due, and Sirius said that, now the focus is off of the pepper-up potion, my 'adoring public' might decide to be pissy with me again and had me say something to placate them. I think the full interview is going to appear later this week, but it's mostly more of the same, and it's focusing a lot on Sirius."

_Thank Merlin_, Harry thought privately.

The paper was placed back in Harry's clutches, and he only realized why when Kyouya had unlocked the door. The Club was starting. Harry's first instinct was to put the paper back in his bag (can't have the muggles see the pretty moving pictures, now can we?), when really it should have been to flee.

He was only just getting up from the arm of Takashi's chair where the Hosts were to greet their guests when the girls in question arrived.

By the time he registered the girls were actually there and that this would be hell, or the girls realized that he was in the room, he was already half turned to go hide (actually, he was planning to go to his "study room" and pop in late to the Black Magic Club meeting). Before he could take more than two steps in his retreat, a group of girls – led by one of Haruhi's fangirls, (who could have guessed it?) the very same girl who had tried talking to him the day before about her doujinshi, Houshakuji Renge – cut him off.

Harry was fairly certain that it would be impossible for a group of girls wearing mary-janes and puffy (and rather ugly) yellow dresses to cross the room that quickly. Then he recalled the impossibilities that the Hosts had described when it came to muggle fangirls. Not quite as scary as the magical variety, but they had their mysteries.

And from the looks he was receiving, Harry could surmise that he wasn't going to leave the room.

So much for working on the Carnival.

"Um... hello?" Harry took a halting step back, wondering if he could make a run for it – though the unnatural speed exhibited made him doubt that even he, a reasonably fast kid, could make it by them – but the choice was taken from him. He had been surrounded, both purposefully and accidentally. Many girls had swarmed Takashi, glad that he was safe, blocking the rear and left escapes. The girls who were actually paying attention to Harry had closed up the rest of that gap.

And they were closing in like a pack of wolves.

"So, Harry-kun, what was that you were saying the other day?" Renge latched suddenly onto his arm in far too intimate of a manner. Harry might have tried to shake her off had he thought it possible. "You must be so glad that _your boyfriend_ is safe!"

Harry had never been one to see much in a person's eyes – except Takashi's, as his were so expressive no matter what anyone else said – but if asked at that moment, he would have said that his classmate's eyes were cloaked in some fierce flame. Suddenly he understood why the word "moe" (3) was used by the fangirls of the Host Club.

The "pack" of fangirls moved in even closer, a few more latching onto him. And they were giggling and firing off questions and overlapping each other so much (even their fangirl Queen, the aforementioned Renge, was talked over) that Harry couldn't have answered them even if he wanted to. So he decided to wait it out and hope he could escape; honestly, he doubted even Nekozawa himself coming to figure out what had happened to his "favorite first-year" would get these girls off of him.

Luckily, Harry had someone better than Nekozawa on his side, if less creepy. The girls immediately leaped away when Takashi's hand fell on his shoulder in a show of... well, it might not have been a show of anything, maybe possessiveness, but either way the girls detached as soon as Takashi attached. Though their expressions spoke of some form of glee that Harry had come to associate exclusively with yaoi fangirls.

To think the "refined ladies of Ouran" could be so shamelessly perving at the idea of Harry and Takashi being together was... more than a little strange. True, they had to put up fewer fronts than the average teenager, having grown up spoiled, but at the same time didn't they have even more of a reputation to keep up? For once Harry found himself agreeing with Haruhi's mantra of "rich bastards."

"Mori-kun, are you and Potter-kun really... dating?" Harry recognized the girl, one of Takashi's usual fangirls. The shy-type, the sort of girl who was wont to let her feelings fester rather than address them for fear of what that might create; it was obvious that Harry had crushed the girls like her by taking Takashi from right under their noses. He couldn't say he regretted being with Takashi, not even after the kidnapping, but he did regret that his confession had stolen any hope the fangirls might have had over Takashi. Even if he really hated fangirling.

"Yes," it wasn't the usual "Aa" but an actual "yes." It conveyed the importance of the reply, in Harry's opinion, and the girl seemed to note it as well. Her head bowed and she slowly disappeared into the yaoi fangirl crowd. For all Harry knew, she joined them; he could identify a couple of Takashi's usuals among them, even if they weren't as vicious in their appraisal of the pair.

The girls were soon giggling and firing questions at _both_ of them, however, and Harry was getting more than a little annoyed. Kyouya popping up was a godsend, or so he thought until the older boy actually opened his mouth to speak.

"Harry-kun, why don't you stay with us for today? I already talked with Nekozawa-senpai, and he said you weren't required for the next part of the preparations for the Black Magic Club's part of the Carnival," the Shadow King showed his true loyalties – to the Host Club's business aspect – and took away Harry's excuse to leave. He might have said he had to study (after all, exams were on the seventh and eight of March, and Harry had two sets of them) but studying for muggle exams would be a weak excuse and bringing up the Saru (4) exams was a bad idea.

"Like I have any choice," he muttered, but acquiesced and soon found himself at a table with Takashi and several of _their_ fans. Thankfully, Takashi and Hani had worked apart before, or this would have been more than a harrowing experience. As it was, Harry was really starting to regret allowing himself to go to the Valentine's Ball while pissed off.

Not that he minded having his relationship with Takashi out in the open! He was completely fine with that – and Takashi seemed alright with it as well, which was good – but the way the girls treated them as if they were some novelty...

Okay, he was used to that. His "adoring public" the world over treated him, for the most part, as though he existed to fulfill their every desire. They wanted him to model (so did Hitachiin Yuzuha, but she was a bit more like a cool-aunt type of person like Tonks rather than the rabid fans, even if they had only met twice), to act, to play out their every fantasy with a smile on his face and nary a complaint on his lips. They wanted a robot with his face and not Harry Potter.

These girls demanded a bit more of him, as he was certain he heard them talking about how he made "an adorable uke" and other such things. Maybe if he had known what that meant, he might have been a bit abashed... thankfully, he did not and did not feel compelled to say anything on that particular matter. Though, if Takashi's expression (slightly narrowed eyes, flicking from Harry to just off to the side, and generally not looking too expressive) it was pretty obvious that he would be blushing if he realized what they were talking about.

He did, however, blush when one of Renge's acolytes asked something _highly_ personal.

"So, how far have you gone?"

As it turned out, Harry managed to invent his third shade of red that day. It might have been a record. And then the word "uke" was thrown around in conjunction with his name even more. Fan-bloody-tastic.

* * *

The ramen shop was fixed in the space of one month, and the grand reopening was cause for celebration... sort of. Okay, so the building was actually finished in about a week and a half, the set up of utilities in another week, and the rest of the time was used for design and setting up everything to run the ramen shop. But really, it was pretty impressive all the same. So Sirius made sure to invite the Hosts (most of whom had never been to "a commoner ramen shop") to go with him to have ramen.

Satoshi came along, having not had any ramen recently aside from that made by the chefs at his home, and they weren't very good at it. Not that Harry wouldn't have invited him, he just never had a chance to when Satoshi declared he was going to make _them_ go. So they ended up a group of ten high school students, two middle school students (soon to be high school students), and three adults.

When Sirius made that particular declaration on February twentieth, Harry had been confused. Sirius and Ranka... and who else was coming? None of the male Hosts' parents, certainly.

The declaration that it would "be a surprise" didn't make him feel any less so.

When Harry arrived, nose practically buried in a text on Advanced Transfigurations (his worst subject that he had actually taken formal lessons in) disguised as a text on Chemistry (one of his better muggle subjects, even if he wasn't that great at math), he wasn't much thinking on anything but hanging out with his friends and how to change a flamingo into a fountain pen. So when he saw a head of red hair, he thought for a moment that it was Kaoru. About three seconds later he realized it was the wrong shade of red, Weasley red in fact, and that Kaoru was with his raven-dyed twin bothering Haruhi and Kasanoda.

So when his eyes trailed upward and caught the large burn – long since healed, but still leaving his skin rather shiny - that marred the neck of Charlie Weasley, Harry could be described as being gob smacked. He hadn't expected to see Charlie for... well, he hadn't expected to see Charlie. That about summed it up. Sirius had mentioned that "some" of the "family" would be around for the Carnival as a Spring Vacation, but there had been nothing concrete.

"So, surprised?" Charlie grinned in a devious manner that made his relation to Fred and George quite apparent.

"Very," Harry quickly slipped his text book into the school bag that had been almost constantly on his shoulder for the past year. "When did you get in, why are you in Tokyo a good week before I was set to expect anyone, and why did you go along with whatever scheme Sirius has decided to cook up because whatever it is you obviously have," he did not pose it as a question, no matter his wording.

"Yesterday," Charlie started ticking off answers on his fingers, "I'm going to be working at the reserve near Hiroshima all next month, so they portkeyed me in early to get an idea of the layout... and I can't tell you the third one because I don't know what you're talking about. Honest."

Harry nodded his assent to Charlie's answers and quickly introduced him to the Host Club (plus Kasanoda and Satoshi) whom he hadn't actually had the time to introduce the elder wizard to in the last visit aside from Takashi and Hani. Of course, Charlie – much like his brothers (excepting Percy and Ron) – was a fun guy, the kind who could talk to a stranger and feel to that stranger like an older brother only a few minutes into conversation. He was open and wild and honestly cared about not only the dragons he worked with but people.

It was a rare trait among British wizards, though if Fudge's admission of Sirius' innocence was any indication, the rest of the world might finally be breathing down their necks to get their heads from their arses and look around. Maybe. It was still rather up in the air.

"Right..." Harry sighed and shook his head, freeing several fallen cherry blossoms from his hair. The trees at the side of the road here were a a pale pink color, a strange contrast to the trees in the rest of the city that were just starting to sprout leaves. But Harry was used to seeing cherry blossoms out of season and didn't give them a second thought.

"Alright everyone; to ramen!" Sirius cried out happily, and everyone (well, all the _sane_ people in the group) rolled their eyes and followed regardless of Sirius' eccentricities. Because the ramen was just that good.

**Author's Note: To my complete and utter surprise, I actually put something important-ish in here. A clue to the Death Eater plot... not that anyone will get it because the Death Eaters aren't as think as we dumb they are (yes, I wrote that on purpose). But this chapter is still mostly filler. On the bright side, Harry got cuddles, Sirius is free, and the climax approacheth... oh gods, the climax approacheth. O,O (cookies to all who understand the face!)**

**Made the mistake of being social today; it was pointless and boring. Next time I'll try to remember that.**

(1) Back in chapter... 8 I think, the Ouran Festival took place on Harry's birthday, so Sirius had Harry's birthday party on the first day of August.

(2) As you can tell, I don't exactly know how to write an article; hell, I don't even read the paper. Maybe if I took a journalism class, but I wouldn't want to be in a class full of freshmen (no offense) next year, and it isn't in my preferred career path, so... yeah no.

(3) The verb "moeru" means "to burn". "Moe" is just a form of that verb, commonly used by fangirls. I'm guessing I don't need to say much more on that since "moe" appears in, like, half the episodes of Ouran.

(4) As pointed out to me by FlitShadowFlame, Saru also means "exit", and considering these would be the "necessary" exams (basically the Japanese version of OWLs since there are jobs that only require a Saru in a given subject), whatever the end-of-high-school exams would be being more of a higher education/qualifier for university sort of thing, it makes sense to me. It also works with the Japanese school system, since education beyond middle school is not required.

_Omake #9: 9:24 pm, December 31, 2006 (Chapters 23)_

When Kyouya approached him, Takashi felt a bit... curious. When he beckoned Takashi away from Mitsukuni – who was currently entertaining a small cluster of girls and ignoring Takashi's presence anyway – he felt a spark of trepidation. But he followed the Shadow King regardless. They moved to a small alcove where Haruhi was waiting. Either this had to do with Haruhi's debt, Kyouya wanted them both to do something, or the Natural and Cool types were coconspirators in... something.

"Tamaki and Hikaru want to dance with Haruhi," Kyouya informed him. Takashi perked an eyebrow. Of _course_ they wanted to dance with her; so did Kaoru probably, but he was rooting for his brother to get the girl. But what did that have to do with him? "If she is the only Host to dance with any boys, the action will be made rather... suspect. We have the excuse that the girls wish to have more 'boy-love' moments, but again, to have only Haruhi as a constant participant is not going to go over well."

"I thought maybe if you danced with Hani-senpai it could help... and maybe Harry-kun if he's willing," Haruhi breached without any hesitation. Straight to the point and oblivious as to what that might actually mean – especially only two days after the ultimate rejection! – to the person she was speaking with. Still, Takashi nodded. Of course Harry would say no. But a few misconstrued moments would still keep Kyouya happy.

"Good," Kyouya obviously knew that Takashi wouldn't say no. "We've already routed the Weasley twins to dance with Hikaru and Kaoru, and Kasanoda has agreed to dance with Haruhi." As if he would refuse. "We'll talk to Harry-kun in a moment then." He left the alcove quickly. Takashi was about to leave as well – he ought to get back to Mitsukuni – when Haruhi spoke again.

"I doubt he'll say no. He's a very good friend for you Senpai; he was pretty mad for what Ritsu-kun said about his reasons for becoming your disciple." And with that Haruhi left the alcove and trailed after Kyouya.

Harry... had defended him? But it was Harry who said he couldn't see Takashi as a role-model for anyone in the first place! Well, he hadn't said that. He had said he "couldn't see it." But if he didn't mean that he couldn't see Takashi like that, what did he mean?

He shook himself of those thoughts and instead went back to Mitsukuni, who hadn't noticed him leave, nor did he seem to notice his return. Takashi remained stalk still however, and simply surveyed the room, keeping an eye out for a certain someone... a certain someone who was currently walking to the small alcove with Haruhi and Kyouya.

Takashi's stomach twisted into knots as he kept his eyes glued on that spot where he could just make out the three standing. Harry wasn't getting mad, so he wasn't adverse to dancing with boys – well, why should he be? Harry had admitted he was gay with the greatest of ease, something Takashi had yet to mention to his friends even if his family knew – but Takashi couldn't get a good gauge of the conversation from that distance.

Kyouya's exit caught his eye, and the smile shot at him by the Shadow King might be construed as... genuine. The glasses-sporting second year approached and stated simply "He said yes," before walking off and dragging Tamaki over to Haruhi. That was... unexpected.

Okay, so it was unexpected to Takashi. But Harry was bound to have his reasons, and they likely had nothing to do with wanting to dance with Takashi; more likely than not, Harry had had more than enough of dancing with someone taller than himself. Still, Takashi would take advantage of the moment; he made a beeline for Harry.

The first year seemed surprised at the hand offered to him, but he seemed to come to terms with it soon enough and allowed Takashi to lead him to the dance floor. The Wild Type completely ignored the giggles around them and curious looks that they received from everyone; Tamaki and Haruhi, who had already started their waltz, were getting just as many strange looks and Takashi didn't really care.

As he let Harry lead him, Takashi noticed that Harry wasn't wholly concentrating either. Though a sudden peal of laughter took him from his reverie of the younger boy. "What?"

"It's nothing, Mori-senpai." Back to that, were they? Takashi schooled his features even as Harry came up with some nonsense explanation for his humor – while the idea of who of Kasanoda and Haruhi would lead was interesting, it wasn't humorous. Yet Takashi himself couldn't help but laugh; not at the comment, but because of how obvious it was to him that Harry was lying. Harry wasn't a bad liar, but Takashi could read him like a book... it was strange.

They cycled through a few more steps before Takashi voiced what he was thinking about, if only a part of it, "I liked it better when you called me Takashi." There, it was simple and signified that he wanted a closer relationship with Harry.

"Alright Takashi-senpai," it rolled off of Harry's tongue naturally, but it wasn't enough. Takashi didn't want a mere suffix to be able to replace his name, and his lifted an eyebrow in hopes of conveying that message. "Takashi-kun?" Still not enough. He called Haruhi and the twins "-kun". "Fine. Takashi. Happy now?"

_Very_. He thought privately, but only smiled and nodded. Harry laugh again, his eyes closed and a grin stretched across his face; Takashi couldn't help but smile a bit wider even as the surrounding dancers sent strange looks their way. _Let_ them look.

Even if there was nothing to see.

Takashi only danced twice more that entire night. Once with Mitsukuni and once with one of his fangirls who got up the guts to ask. They watched the fireworks (quite spectacular, enough that Takashi suspected them to be magical) before everyone went back in. In less than five minutes, Takashi realized that Harry hadn't come back in. Five minutes later, Takashi excused himself.

Lit up from behind, Harry's dark green suit seemed an inky black that swallowed him up, blending with the rose bushes and the overcast sky. The contrast against the balcony railing was stark. Even from behind, it was obvious that Harry was deep in thought, though what about...

"It's cold outside," Takashi stated, hardly even realizing that he had come to rest only about a step away from Harry. When the boy jolted around, he realized that two feet was really quite close... and so far away. However, the deer-in-the-headlights look he received made him worry. "Are you alright?" He leaned forward a bit, trying to get a good look at Harry even though it was he who blocked the light from behind. But he couldn't.

The shadow of Harry's head turned aside for a moment before slipping away from Takashi. He hadn't realized it, but he had taken that extra half-step forward; there had hardly been any space between them at all.

Harry had obviously been more than a little uncomfortable with that.

When Harry started talking, Takashi felt his stomach drop. Starting with "This isn't something you want to hear" tended to be a bad sign in a conversation, even if Takashi wasn't one for talking over much.

However, as soon as the words "I like you" came out of Harry's mouth, Takashi couldn't think much beyond that. He caught Harry talking and he knew what was being said, but it didn't really register. Before he even realized it, Harry was gone and Takashi was alone on the veranda. He slowly leaned over onto the railing.

_He_likes_me,_ was the prevalent thought for about a minute before a new fire overtook him.

Harry had confessed first, and it was only fair that Takashi confess as well. They both liked each other – how much neither knew – and that was what mattered, wasn't it?

Soon, Harry would be his. _That_ was the important thing. He returned inside with that mission in mind.

_Omake #10: 3:14 pm, December 26, 2006 (Chapter 21)_

Mitsukuni left Harry and Takashi behind, completely forgetting the "house-elf" he had met. He was far more interested in the man walking beside him – or, rather, what that man had to offer.

Weasley Charles – or Charlie as he preferred to be called, though Mitsukuni had already decided to call him "Charu-chan" – was in fact the older brother of Weasley Fred and George, the twins who could give Hikaru and Kaoru a run for their money (and more) in just about anything. He also happened to work with _dragons_.

When Mitsukuni was a little boy, he had always liked the stories about dragons the best. The tale of the dragon's pearl (a), the stories from the western world about dragons, even komodo dragons (which weren't really dragons at all, as both muggles and magical people knew), especially the stories that his grandmother told, the same grandmother who had sewn his rabbit. She seemed to know a lot about dragon lore; so, knowing now that dragons were quite real, Mitsukuni wanted to learn about them.

It was childish, but so was he, and Charlie seemed plenty happy to humor him.

They went through the green houses swiftly, Hani firing off questions about what sort of dragons Charlie worked with. Mostly Norwegian Ridgebacks, Ukrainian Ironbellies, and Hungarian Horntails, since those were the sort that thrived best in Romania, though he admitted to working at other sites across the world with other dragons. But he preferred the Romanian reserve.

"I'm set to work at the Japanese reserve in March when their Fireballs are waking up," Charlie told him as they settled into a sitting room of Harry's mansion. "They tend to have issues with the Antipodean Opal Eyes when they wake up, and since I'm used to the biggest and the baddest, it wasn't a hard choice. The Romanian area is mostly for research, but I do a lot of hands-on work."

"That's so cool, Charu-chan! Do you think I'd be able to see the dragons?" The Loli-Shota Type sent his best puppy-dog eyes at the man – a good five years older than Mitsukuni – but the red-head seemed immune.

"That won't work on me; I have four little brothers and a little sister," Charlie shook his head, looking deadly serious. "I'm long since immune to that, even if you _are_ the same age as Fred and George... but yes, you can come see the dragons. The Japanese reserve is a tourist attraction in the summer, but I could probably get some 'close family friends' in when I'm here later."

Mitsukuni could hold back his grin and spent the next hour pouring over Charlie's album of dragon photographs – which he had one of Harry's elf-thingy's fetch – soaking up the information like a sponge. If there was anything he liked more than Takashi, calculus, and sweets, it was animals.

There was just the small misconception that he preferred cute small animals. No, that was Takashi's preference (he, after all, was the one who had a chick and a tanuki); Mitsukuni found animals that were dangerous more interesting.

Yet another thing that his fangirls could not understand... except perhaps Reiko. She certainly didn't fear things like the girls who cooed over him.

And, as she was a squib, he was sure that Reiko would like to come see dragons with him.

**Number 9 was... actually meant to be The First Kiss, but as you can tell I decided to do The Confession instead (I'll do The Kiss next time, I swear!!!) and Omake 10 was done at the suggestion of Utena-Puchiko-Nyu, which I liked. So... yeah. I'm probably doing all requests at some point, but this one caught my attention and it was as good a time as any to include it.**

(a) In China, when a dragon leaves a pearl it... does something. Can't really remember, but it had something to do with rice... um... yeah. I read it more than five years ago; don't judge me!!!


	34. Chapter 34

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64. **Lots of scene-changes, short.**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 34

Maybe they shouldn't have been so surprised at the time; Harry hardly spent any time with Haruhi and even he hadn't been too terribly shocked when he found out. Well, Takashi and Hani hadn't been that surprised either, or Kyouya, but they were different.

_Well, they do say love makes you blind_, Harry reflected.

It was February 24. Harry had been making full use of his study room that afternoon – those purposes being that he had his nose buried in a book on magical creatures that Charlie had suggested he use for the up-coming exams as well as hiding from the girls who decided a genuine gay couple was the _best thing ever_ – when he heard a girly scream that could come only from the Host King. Wondering what had been the cause, Harry glanced at his watch and saw that the club had ended a few minutes ago, so he ought to be safe.

"Casanova! Get your hands off of my daughter!" Tamaki shouted. It was a wonder that he still considered her his "daughter" after so long, but Harry wouldn't pry; he was a bit more curious to see that Haruhi was sitting next to Kasanoda on one of the couches… and quite close, all things considered. Too close for Tamaki to be comfortable.

"His hands aren't actually on her," Harry pointed out as he strode calmly into the room. Really, did Tamaki have to be so loud? Considering how near to sound-proof the side-room was, his scream must have reached _quite_ the decibel level.

"Harry-chan! Ritsu-chan and Haru-chan are dating! Isn't that great?" Hani's smile was quite wide as he grinned down at Harry from his position on Takashi's shoulders. It clicked in easily in with Harry's view of the world given that Haruhi "studied English" with Kasanoda rather frequently even though Harry and Sirius were fluent as well as the pseudo-date the two had gone on in December. He had no trouble comprehending it.

From Tamaki's horrified expression and the fact that Hikaru had taken up residence in the Corner of Despair (TM) – the mushrooms cultivated there being even more impressive than those which the King usually brought to life – with Kaoru trying to remove him from said corner (it wasn't working), it was obvious that there was more than one Host who did _not_ want that image to fit in with their little world.

Given half the Club was in love with their female member – or believed themselves to be at least – it made sense for them to be distraught, but did they have to be so theatrical about it? Were he one of those anime characters in the shows that Hikaru and Kaoru always wanted him to watch, Harry would have likely had a giant sweat-drop behind his head; but that was ridiculous of course so he settled for being exasperated out of the visible spectrum.

"That's great; you two work well together," Harry smiled at the pair, hiding his disdain for the reactions of his other friends. Feigning ignorance to the feelings of the ex-red-head and the Frenchman was harder than it could be, but Harry managed well enough. "Hikaru-kun, the janitors tend not to like it when they have to deal with mushrooms."

He jolted at being addressed, but otherwise Hikaru remained stationary. At least he hadn't moved on to shredding magazines as hamster-cage lining, but the mushrooms… well, Harry hoped he could ignore them. Yes it was horrible that Hikaru and Tamaki would not get Haruhi, yes it was surprising that she was dating Kasanoda – sort of – and sure, they had the full right to mope and bemoan the pairing. But they also had to know when to concede defeat, and this was most certainly that time.

Tamaki continued raging until Haruhi told him to shut up, at which point he joined Hikaru and Kaoru in the corner.

Harry slowly shook his head before bidding the Hosts good-bye; he had a dueling lesson to get to, and Charlie had volunteered to help give him some experience against someone other than just Sirius. Hopefully he would continue to improve.

* * *

Saturday heralded two things, though both seemed rather inconsequential. Charlie managed to get day passes for the Hosts to go to the Dragon Reserve he was going to be working at for the next month, allowing Hani the chance to see the beasts and the others to ooh and ah appreciatively while alternately hoping not to be set on fire. Hani, of course, was oblivious to the threat, or had the sense to know that they wouldn't have been allowed in were they to be in danger by coming, and watched them avidly.

The fact that Fleur and Krum had returned to Japan for reasons their own – Krum to familiarize himself with the grounds of the next Quidditch Cup, which was to be held just North of the base of Mount Fuji; Fleur because Sirius had invited her to come visit the Ouran Carnival (not that Krum hadn't been invited, just that he did not cite this as his reason) – and happened to meet up with the Hosts notwithstanding.

In Harry's opinion, it was far too much of a coincidence, but he didn't mind.

Takashi, however, did. Even though Fleur kissed them _all_ on the cheek this time (except Charlie considering they had never met), Takashi was stiff around the European pair. Especially Krum for some reason. It wasn't until Harry had quite openly given him a kiss (everyone knew anyway, and he highly doubted the dragons cared if Harry gave his boyfriend a peck on the cheek) that Takashi calmed down.

Though he still made a habit of keeping himself between Harry and Krum for reasons unknown, it was better than getting his muscles in a knot.

They had a nice day regardless, and Sirius seemed to have decided that, since Harry needed more friends – not that the Boy-Who-Lived thought so, but that was Sirius' opinion – he invited everyone over to his house. He seemed intent that Harry have a stronger relationship with his fellow Triwizard Competitors.

"I still want to fly against you," was all Viktor said before Sirius actually led them out to his Quidditch Pitch (well, a field with hoops, but it served as a Quidditch Pitch). Considering Harry hadn't actually played seeker in almost three years, it was hardly going to be any contest even if he _could_ have ever placed himself on the same level as Krum. As it was, he had never believed such, and he wasn't mistaken.

It ended up a battle between three seekers, as Charlie wanted in on the action as well, which neither Harry nor Krum begrudged him. He would have fallen for Krum's attempt at a Wronski Feint were it not for Harry _not_ falling for it – Krum only tried once, but Harry had the foresight to look ahead of his competition – but both also failed to catch up to Krum when the man _did_ catch sight of the snitch. Everyone claimed Harry did admirably, Charlie in particular, and Krum certainly seemed pleased with the match (Harry's vision might be shot, but he _noticed_ things and had seen the snitch only a moment after Krum when others would follow blindly), but Harry was suitably abashed.

Having only played against (for the most part) mediocre players at the school level and in only six games his entire life, it was little surprise. And the fact that Takashi gave him a hug when he was no longer pulling death-defying dives far too close to the ground for a spectator's comfort made him feel a bit better.

Then again, that might be because it was _cold_ up there, as the sky could not be secured with warming charms like the ground level where everyone had been watching, and Harry was just glad to be free of the biting winter wind, but whatever.

Several times after that, Krum seemed to believe that his social obligations for the evening were complete and was keen on leaving, but Sirius was a rather domineering person. There was no escape. So everyone was in one of Sirius' "play rooms" as he called them when the head of Captain Watanabe appeared in the fireplace (after being directed to the appropriate grate by one of Harry's elves).

There was yet another attack, this time on completely natural area just a few minutes outside of Tokyo; when they were told the coordinates and Kyouya looked it up on some internet world-model-thingy (1) the satellite image proved surprisingly familiar. It was the same lake where the Hosts (plus Harry) had gone swimming in September. The cherry blossoms had already started falling, much as they were at Ouran, and the picture was obviously recent, but not too recent, as the lake shown a pale pink from the fallen blooms.

Still, something niggled at the back of Harry's mind. Even though he knew that not so much as a toad had been harmed in the explosion the Death Eaters let off, he was still wondering what the Death Eaters were doing.

Going by tradition, he had almost four months to find out though. Assuming they kept to the tragedy-habit of Harry's life, that is. They'd certainly been accurate enough with Halloween.

No death, no injuries worse than a bruise or a twisted ankle, not so much as a speck of blood or any evidence other than destruction of property and the Dark Mark left hovering in the air. There were only so many places that the Death Eaters could strike though, right?

Harry sighed and sat back on the over-large (being precisely 200 pounds and therefore nearly twice Harry's own weight) beanbag Sirius had in the middle of this room and stared at the ceiling. He had other things to worry about until June, namely his up-and-coming exams. Fleur had already volunteered to help him with some of the prep work (apparently there was quite a bit of vigor to testing out of Britain that would surprise him). That, on top of her deciding she could help with Sirius (and Charlie) training him for dueling was due to a lack of anything to do but sightsee for the next couple weeks, but it was a nice sentiment regardless.

Wouldn't Hermione have loved to know Harry was thinking about his exams before taking on the forces of evil for once?

"You okay?" Takashi asked quietly. Harry darted his gaze to his boyfriend who was sitting just to his left and let out a small sigh but nodded. Takashi gave his own nod in recognition of Harry's nod – and the wish for silence accompanying it – and so they sat. No one was really talking anymore aside from Tamaki and Fleur whispering to each other in French (Harry caught maybe one out of every twenty words) – Krum having taken his chance at escape and Kyouya still tapping away at his laptop – so he tried to focus his thoughts on exams.

When Kyouya spoke up, it was obvious not only that this was not meant to be, as the relative silence was broken, he had to sit up, and his attention was drawn away once more from his thoughts of the up-and-coming exams.

"They're all seven miles apart," he stated when he had stopped typing for a moment. He turned the laptop round on the table and Harry had to sit up again to get a good look at the map. All ten attacks were precisely seven miles from another one, two for most of them but the first and last. The shape it made was incongruent, not something Harry had ever really thought of, and the gap between first and last was large enough that there was no way to tell where next the Death Eaters would strike.

More likely than not, however, there would be only one more attack to make eleven, and even that was suspect considering there wasn't much of a significance to eleven. Voldemort had always gone for seven or thirteen; why should his followers be any different? Seven miles was significant, certainly, but more likely than not they would somehow fit in thirteen.

With another annoyed groan, Harry flopped back to his previous position on the bean bag. Takashi joined him.

* * *

Walking through the halls on February 25, Harry had the distinct feeling that everyone was talking about him. Well, not _everyone_, but the vast majority of the female population of Ouran High School. The reason? They were all hovering together, looking his way, giggling, and then going back to talking with one another. Repeatedly.

Harry collapsed in his seat beside Takashi, but refrained from asking just _what_ was going on and instead focused on his lunch. Hardly even thinking of it, he gave Takashi his pickles (he _hated_ pickles); the giggling increased.

"You'd think they would shut up about it by now," Harry grumbled. Takashi merely shrugged, which Harry took as him admitting the futility of doing anything about it. Harry had to agree. "Still, they were okay _yesterday_, and suddenly…" he trailed off and sighed.

It wasn't until he was doing a review in French class that he realized Kyouya had looked far too satisfied with himself. It was also when he saw a thin booklet in a girl's bag that had a very private picture on the cover of Takashi cuddled up to Harry and sleeping, obviously from the "Takashi is safe!" party.

He wanted very much to tell Kyouya where to shove it and barely refrained.

* * *

_**Bumblebee Behind Bars  
Dumbledore found guilty on all counts**_

_By Honda Toru – 2 March, 2007_

_The sun sank low over continental Asia before the decision was made last night, at nearly eight in the evening. Dumbledore Albus was found guilty of evading law enforcement, resisting arrest, abduction of an adult (2), attempted abduction of a minor, over one thousand counts of revealing the magical world, several counts of unauthorized portkey use, unauthorized crossing of International borders, possession of illegal artifacts, theft from a minor, corruption, and other counts that were not disclosed to the public._

_The trial began at five in the afternoon. This is an hour beyond the usual closing of the Office of Justice at the Japanese Ministry of Magic, but allowances had to be made. One of the prime victims of Dumbledore's manipulations and crimes the past fifteen years, Potter Harry, was only just able to attend after completing the written portions of the Saru exams._

_When asked about the delay, Judge Magister Yamada Arai stated that all of the witnesses had to be present. Education is of course a major concern in Japan, and causing a student to fall back in his studies when it is avoidable would be inexcusable._

_Although the press was barred from attending the trial, aurors were sent out to keep the world at large informed of the goings on within the court room._

_The trial ran long for a magical one – three hours with each witness being separately questioned under Veritaserum. Dumbledore was found in contempt of court for attempting to use a Veritaserum anti-serum that he kept in a hidden capsule within his mouth, which could have turned the results of the trial on its head._

_After the trial, this reporter had the opportunity to interview the two young men who made the trial possible; Potter Harry, also known as the Vanquisher, and Morinozuka Takashi, an eighteen year old muggle from the prestigious Morinozuka family and the current National Kendo Champion in the under-twenty bracket. Both seemed relieved that Dumbledore was convicted._

_"It's about time someone did something about him," Potter stated. "I wouldn't wish the dementors on anyone, but I think he's getting what he deserves regardless."_

_For those who do not know, dementors are dark creatures that devour happiness and steal souls with a "kiss". These creatures, invisible to muggles and lower-level squibs, are used in the British penitentiary of Azkaban and only five other prisons worldwide to subdue the inmates. This is the same institution where Lord Black was imprisoned for nearly twelve years._

_When asked to speak, Morinozuka Takashi was quoted as saying, "I don't like him. He hurt Harry." While not a particularly verbose response, it certainly got the message across._

_Dumbledore's sentencing was a good one, and thus far no one has protested it._

_For more details on the trial, turn to page A12._

_For the full transcript of the interview with Potter Harry and Morinozuka Takashi, turn to page D3._

Harry set down the paper and rubbed at his eye with the heel of his hand. That article had come out in the morning – it was now late at night – and to put it simply, Harry was exhausted. The written exams had been straight-forward enough the day before and because the first part was a scantron test he had been given those results almost immediately, though the essay and short answers would have to wait until mid March. Not going to school the past two days (they were just reviewing for the regular exams anyway) had helped in taking care of the exams.

But sweet Circe! The practical exams... Fleur wasn't kidding about the rigor of them.

They didn't do the practical by subject and as him to cast such and such spell; no, they pulled him out and had him cast every charm he knew on a jade orb that would gauge the power and effectiveness of that charm. Because Harry was good at Charms, he ended up going through about six of those stones due to some overloaded banishing charm, a vicious _Incendio_, and several other accidents. He'd been awarded top grade for spell knowledge and effectiveness right then and there.

Then they started having him Transfigure things; let's just say that his "versatility" score suffered on that one. The written tests had gone over Astronomy, Runes, and Arithmancy without need of a practical exam, but most other subjects had something in there.

Last thing they did was pit him in a duel against a Japanese student who had a similar score to him in the spell knowledge and effectiveness categories. It was completely unexpected for Harry, but he supposed it was a good test of his dueling skills that had been gained over the past month and a half. He was by no means a good duelist, but compared to how he _had_ been... well, he did a lot better than he might have otherwise.

Harry had only really dueled three kinds of people in the past. Sirius had tried to emulate a standard opponent, one who used straight out offensive spells, but he wasn't as good at that and had soon moved on to his true expertise, the Transfiguration style. Charlie was more like a standard dueler, but his spells packed more of a punch than the average spell-caster – they had to considering he had to be able to subdue _dragons_ – and though he had only dueled Harry a few times it was a bit of experience. Fleur... well, she didn't seem to have a style, but there was something there. She used just about anything.

And Harry's opponent just so happened to use that style, which put Harry at a disadvantage because it meant that he couldn't predict anything. Sirius had categorized Harry as more of an area-effect and strategizing dueler. It made very little sense since Harry sucked at chess and he had next to no tactical knowledge – never mind that when he actually got into a dangerous situation he went in without thinking – but even he had noticed that he was drawn to creating pitfalls about his opponents while fighting. Tactics included needing to be able to predict _something_ in the enemy's movements, which just was not going to happen with this particular kid.

Harry had put up a good fight, certainly better than even he expected, but the other boy defeated him in the space of five minutes. It was a long time for a duel to last, but not extraordinarily so. The Boy-Who-Had-Far-Too-Many-Hyphenated-Names (a title bequeathed him by Tonks) didn't get top marks for dueling (the actual grades rewarded were for his thought processes and ingenuity apparently), but they weren't bad by any means.

So to say that he was exhausted would be quite the understatement. He had skipped the second half of the school day to wind down – his magic was itching to be used just like his muscles did after a good run – and now he was doing some last minute prep work with the rest of the Black Magic Club at Nakozawa's manor for the Carnival that weekend.

Of course, they wouldn't _have_ to do any more prep if the school hadn't suddenly given them the short end of the stick. No longer would the Black Magic Club be doing a fire show because their time slot happened to be while the Host Club would be setting up their show for the evening, and on the same stage. Meaning they would not _have_ a stage to work on. It turned out that one of the members of the student council had thought that Nekozawa was having everyone do palm readings and the like (they were, but only for a little while) and therefore needed only a prep slot.

All the preparation that had gone into the pyrotechnics they were preparing – all the fireproofing charms that Harry had semi-secretly set up in the South Building show room, the runic work inlaid on the stage, everything! – was a waste of time. Now they had to figure out how _six people_ were going to entertain the entire hall without the stage. Or things exploding.

Naturally, as Harry was the most "friendly face" among them, he was going to be the front man along with Nekozawa. While Harry's inner eye wasn't exactly alert, he could at least do the branches of Divination that did not require it such as tarot, palm reading, phrenology (though how people would take to having their skulls groped...), and a bit of crystal ball reading. But he'd really _practiced_ the fire thing.

"Stupid Kurakano..." he grumbled as he threw the paper across the table finally. It scattered the cards that Kanazuki was using for some reason or another, but she didn't react except to throw the paper straight back at him.

They had three days to fill up a ten minute block with whatever they could do _without_ revealing magic.

Harry sighed mentally, _Merlin save me._

* * *

Harry beamed a fake smile at the families who were entering the South show room. Two stages had been set up on the high school campus – North and South, one taken by the music, art, and other clubs that would show aesthetic performances, and the other for the more diverse clubs – for the evening with the central courtyard set as a socializing-and-refreshments arena between them. It would be used as a dancing area after both show rooms had finished for the evening.

The night before had been the primary shows (though really it was a parent-teacher conference with children acting out class plays in the background) and the middle school students had Sunday from noon onward. The high school students had required all of Saturday to finish preparations, and it had paid off.

And there Harry stood with the rest of the Clubs who were performing in the South building – the Hosts, the martial arts clubs, the chemistry club, math club, archery club, and several beyond that – greeting everyone who came in. Already had he watched Sirius, Remus, and the rest of Harry's "family" (who had arrived midday on Friday) take their seats at a pair of small tables where they were soon joined by Ranka. With all the adults and other family members seated, Harry scurried back stage with the rest of the performers.

Vaguely, he could hear the third year class president introducing the first attraction, the kendo club. Harry gave a confident smile to Takashi as he walked over to the stage, receiving one in return, before Nekozawa pulled him to the side to discuss last minute changes with the rest of the Black Magic Club.

Harry did, however, keep an eye on the stage from the side.

The kendo club finished their exhibition to the applause of the assembled crowd and filed off the stage before the karate club went up. No set change necessary, thankfully.

More and more clubs went through their practiced routines, showing off skills they utilized in the club they had formed or, if it wasn't so much a marketable skill, they did something else. For example, Harry knew that the Hosts would be doing a sort of vaudeville show as the evening's finale, even if he hadn't actually seen them do it (the Club had been closed for some last minute practice and Harry had been busy with his own group after all), and the gardening and cooking clubs were actually a major part of the decorating and catering even though they didn't have a performance.

Still, Harry had spent a lot of time making sure the entire hall and stage would be fire proof, and now it was completely pointless.

"As an interlude before the final performance of the evening, our Black Magic Club will be going around for the next ten minutes doing some fortune telling," the third year vice-president announced, the previous announcer having been required in the other show room for a Ballet Club performance. "Please enjoy."

The squibs and one wizard that made up the Black Magic Club filed out from the stage, dressed as they believed appropriate. Nekozawa was wearing a black suit with a red rose, but was without his customary cloak and wig for once, instead relying on the sun block Harry had suggested for him nearly a year prior (SPF-Magic!). Harry kept his simple as well with a dark green suit and black shirt, though he was visibly playing with his small crystal ball, much to Sirius' glee. The rest had chosen dark Victorian garb, and it suited them.

They worked the crowd as best they could, though many left for refreshments before the final performance.

At one point, however, Harry couldn't help but to burst out laughing even as he read a woman's palm for her. It was hard not to.

This particular table happened to be near to the one where Sirius, Ranka, Tonks, and Remus were seated – the four Weasley brothers having taken another table with Fleur (who was hitting it off brilliantly with Bill) and Krum (though he was obviously bored) – so it wasn't hard to hear every word. Sirius was a popular guy, even if the vast majority of those in the room hadn't met him. They _knew_ who he was and had seen the picture of Sirius, Ranka, Harry, and the Hosts in the paper six months ago (several students had noticed the lack of Haruhi in the image, instead seeing her cousin Natsuko (3)).

"Lord Black, I _must_ ask, which student is yours? I haven't heard of you having any children," a woman asked curiously.

"My godson is Potter Harry," Sirius replied. Harry remained impassive, having thought nothing of this particular conversation. "He's about three feet behind you. Hi Harry!"

"Hello Sirius," Harry responded idly and continued telling the woman what her hands said about her. No need to pay any mind to _him_.

"Why that's just lovely," another lady responded. Obviously addressing Ranka, she continued, "I don't think we've caught your name, my dear."

"Oh, excuse me, I'm Fujioka Ranka," the response was followed by a soft chuckle from the cross-dresser. Even _Harry_ could smell a good set up coming, and it was a fight not to laugh.

"Fujioka... you must be the mother of that boy my daughter is always raving about, Haruhi-kun was it? I've heard he's an absolute _delight_ in that Host Club thing that my dear Hinako seems to enjoy so much," the first woman interjects.

"No, I'm afraid my wife is no longer with is," Ranka sighed. "My Haruhi looks so much like her, too."

Harry could _hear_ the aghast silence at Ranka's statement and he couldn't help but snicker as he went along to the next person who requested his services.

Their segment ended, and Harry headed backstage, the only one to do so. The rest were going to watch the vaudeville. Not that Harry wouldn't, but he wanted to put his things in his bag. The others may be fine with carrying out their tarot cards in a pocket, but Harry had his crystal ball as well, and it wouldn't fit. With the objects in question safely stowed away in his bag, Harry was quite happy to make his way out of the dressing room. It wasn't particularly small, but it was far too small for his tastes, and without windows.

Or he would have been happy to leave had he been able to. The door was closed – the walls were too close, he could feel the ceiling, hadn't he been okay a second ago? – and it was locked as he could tell as his fingers scrabbled against the door knob. No no nononono…

"NO!"

He thought that it was his scream that pervaded the air, but soon realized that it wasn't, even though he was trying hard to just block everything out to deal with this. But that scream – those _screams_ – were not his. Not his voice, not his fear, not his rage. Even with the walls pressing against him, the light at least helped him keep his head. The cupboard didn't have light. He wasn't in the cupboard. No, he had magic; he could escape!

Another scream tore through the building, one of pure agony. Harry recoiled, turning away from the sound, wanting to help –

A long, narrow wand was pointed at his nose. Slowly, Harry's eyes trailed upward from that wand, up the black-clothed arm, the death-pale neck, and into dark eyes dancing with madness. Bellatrix Lestrange grinned at him.

"It seems widdle baby Potter has come to play," she cooed. The wand twitched slightly, tauntingly at the end of his nose, and Harry felt his own wand slip out of his sleeve.

Harry couldn't do anything other than gape at the Death Eaters surrounding him as he stood on the stage of the South showroom.

**Author's Note: I'm sorry this took so long; I had other things to write last week and then I got writer's block (first time in a very **_**very**_** long time and it has to happen when I'm writing a freaking **_**filler chapter**_** right before the bleeding **_**climax**_** of a story that has **_**eaten my brain**_** for the past 4-plus months), and now I'm spending all Thanksgiving break (Nov 22-29) at my mom's. On the bright side, I have a laptop now. On the not-so-bright side, my step-dad might not let me get on the internet. Fantastic, no? (please note sarcasm) Oh, and let's not forget that my friend now has me doing an original collab with her that is likely going to eat my brain which is already goop.**

**On topic though! Yes, the things I've been building up to for MONTHS are finally cropping up. As no one seems to have any idea what I'm doing – I'll admit the clues did not lead to what the Death Eaters are doing but rather to why locations were picked, and those hints were scarce – you should be glad to know that, like all villains, the Death Eaters are going to expound on their grand master plans before anything really happens.**

**400 reviews? Freakin' sweet. Oh, and irony: most other authors would consider me getting this out when I am fairly quick. So nyah.**

(1) Google earth. But Harry doesn't know that.

(2) Takashi is 18 and has been for most of this story (he was 17 for only the first two chapters); of course he's an adult!

(3) Natsuko was the cover name created by the Hosts because at the Ouran Festival they had her go as a girl and pretend to be her own cousin rather than raise suspicions as to her gender/identity.

_Omake #11: 10:12 pm, January 1, 2007 (Chapter 24)_

Many attempts had been made throughout the day to contact Harry. Takashi was now on the chase since he had found that Harry was interested – he had attempted to grab the younger boy for another conversation as soon as he returned to the New Year's party, but apparently Harry had taken his moment of surprise as denial and so had avoided him all evening – and he wasn't going to back down. Each call, however, was met by a dead line.

He called twenty-two times in less than twenty-four hours, including once on Satoshi's phone to make sure that Harry hadn't somehow magically blocked his number. Considering he got a full night's sleep it was pretty impressive. Also considering he only made calls when the majority of the Host Club could not see or hear him (not that he particularly cared if they found out about his sexual orientation or his attraction to Harry, just that if he had a conversation about it, it was likely most prudent to keep that conversation private) he had less time than one might think to make those calls in that time.

He also used three times as many of his minutes that day than he usually used in a month (but it hardly mattered as he had a ridiculous amount of minutes and he almost never used them anyway).

Still, he hadn't been too pleased to find that Harry wasn't picking up, and he was upset – noticeably so since Mitsukuni had done their "comforting routine" – because he _knew_ that Harry wasn't actually avoiding him. Or, if he was, it had nothing to do with his own inability to get a hold of him.

Takashi sighed and pulled out his phone one last time before he would get in the car to return home. The collective Morinozuka and Haninozuka families had congregated for one last meal together before they would start returning to their own homes since the holiday was pretty much over by this point. But Takashi wanted to try once more for the evening – he hadn't been able to between checking on Harry's home, and he was getting a bit tired, which had Satoshi antsy. It was best to get to sleep as soon as he returned home lest he freak his brother out too much.

Slightly displaced from the rest of the family who were saying their good byes, Takashi only really expected to be separate from them for a couple of seconds in the first place. Harry's phone was likely still off, and even if it wasn't Harry was going to just let him talk or anything because he would have gotten the last twenty-two messages and logic stated that Harry would have called back upon hearing those messages.

And the phone rang.

As soon as that trilling sound started emanating through the device of plastic and metal that Takashi had placed against his ear, he stood ramrod straight. It rang. And it rang.

And it continued ringing.

Takashi had memorized the message of Harry's answering by this point ("Hey, this is Harry. I'm probably being dragged around Tokyo by Sirius or something, but I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Provided you leave a message I mean." Followed by a two second beep) and wasn't even listening this time for the beep as the interval was stuck in his mind. With a heavy mental sigh, Takashi repeated the exact same thing he had been saying all day before hanging up.

He had, of course, considered changing the message several times, or not leaving more than one, but it was rude to not leave a message and, really, that one message said all that needed to be said for the moment. "We need to talk. Call me back." That was what he needed to say. Maybe one of the Hosts' clients would have told him to leave some long romantic message –

But after getting close to Harry over the past few months, he knew that Harry was very simplistic in his needs and some romantic litany would probably only put him into shock, annoy him, and then cause the boy to wonder who had pranked him. Mori knew Harry well enough to know that Harry knew him quite well also. Doing something so entirely out of character as that would only confuse the matter for them both.

He woke up a few times that night, attempting to call Harry each time, but no answer. Ringing, yes it rang, but it was unlikely that it was left alone merely because Harry didn't want to talk to him. Logic dictated that, at one in the morning, Harry would be too sleepy to care who was calling and either pick up or ignore it indiscriminately. More likely the former since Harry was anything but rude... unless he was cranky from an extreme lack of sleep, but that didn't really count.

The same case for five am really.

When he called again in the morning, Takashi did not receive any ringing. It continued that way throughout the day until just a quarter after eight. He left two more messages before bed and another couple in the morning before getting fed up. It had been over forty-eight hours now that he had attempted to contact Harry. As he shuffled Mitsukuni into the car, he told the driver to take them to Harry's house.

In twenty minutes he was inside Harry's house and waiting for Harry to come down; to say he was surprised when Rory started leading him _up_, as in to the third floor that Harry had not previously shown him, he was surprised. Even more so to see Harry, obviously shocked at his arrival. He was dressed nicely, as if he had been expecting someone (of course he was, but apparently not Takashi since Harry seemed to surprised) but in a sort of semi-casual manner.

"M-Mori-senpai! What are you doing here?" Harry stammered out, hastily backing away from the door. Takashi stepped forward to fill the gap; okay, so it probably wasn't meant as an invite, but Takashi had the element of surprise. Just like in a kendo match, he would press his advantage. He held out the folded sweater that he had borrowed almost a week ago, the bright green hue had made him almost not want to give it back... but it was Harry's sweater, even if it would be absolutely _enormous_ on the wizard, and he needed an excuse to come by in case Harry really was avoiding him. Exchanging Harry's sweater for his own was as good a reason as any.

Now that he was with Harry, however, he had to think of what to do. With Harry fidgeting nervously and waiting for Tipsy to bring back the turtleneck in question. Before he could even think of thinking of what to do, he noticed something dark gray with a dull shine sitting ever-so-calmly in Harry's hand,

"You got a new phone." He wouldn't have noticed, except that the color was a sort of steely gray rather than green. Well, even if it had been the same color he would have noticed because this phone lacked the small scrape he had accidentally given it in July in trying to subdue a panic-stricken Harry.

"Yeah, I accidentally stepped on mine yesterday and it broke," Harry explained with a slightly chagrined expression. The phone was hastily lowered from the previous position. "Magic can't fix electronics, since they pretty much cancel each other out. It takes a lot of complex equations that I couldn't even begin to understand to allow them to coexist at all. Sirius took me to get a new phone on my number last night. And then there was this power outage that screwed up everything at the phone company or something. Completely wiped my messages, and I had a lot of them that I was meaning to check yesterday. It knocked out most of the other things tied to my account, but at least the phone numbers were still there. Kinda sucks though, eh Senpai?"

Okay, so Harry _hadn't_ been avoiding him. It was all some cosmic accident that was centered around making Takashi feel awkward. And he _did_ feel awkward. He had been considering asking why Harry was avoiding him, asking why he hadn't called back despite it being _quite_ obvious that Takashi wanted to talk. Harry turned away a bit more and the phone was slipped away; well, if nothing else Takashi could focus on his own name and the fact that Harry wasn't using it.

So he reminded the messy-haired youth, who responded at first by gaping, then looking away. At least he managed to get Harry to call him Takashi; and this could be the perfect time for Takashi to do... something? Yes, something. Speaking wasn't his forte, though he wasn't exactly adverse to verbose monologues when necessary, but _doing_ something... that would work.

Pressing the advantage from here would be to step closer, to make Harry see his affections... but how could he do that?

Tipsy returned then with a neatly folded bundle of dark blue cloth, and with the sweater in Harry's hands Takashi knew what he had to do. He stepped forward, completely disregarding Harry's personal space. The turtle-neck was held between them, but Takashi didn't take it, instead looking down at the top of Harry's bowed head.

"You said it was my decision, didn't you?" Takashi asked, though it wasn't really a question. Harry had said it; repeating that was only his way of indicating his seriousness regarding the matter. "You didn't wait for me to reply."

"Didn't think I needed to." That answer made Takashi wince, no matter his usual control, though Harry's downcast gaze would not allow him to see it. Harry had been so certain that Takashi would not like him, or perhaps that Harry was an unworthy prospect (how could he be?) that he hadn't even felt his own offer worthy of consideration.

Takashi shook his head slightly and replied in the negative with a solid "hn." He grasped the sweater and even as he felt Harry's hands slip away from it, he pressed the advantage further and did the first thing that came to mind – he kissed Harry. Softly, slowly, it was hardly more than a peck... but honestly he had no idea what to do when it came to kissing and went for the simplest of them. Preceded by only two words – "Chin up" - and followed by five – "I like you, too, Harry" – and Takashi couldn't think of a better way to do it.

Now _he_ could give _Harry_ some space. He turned around and walked out – it was now Harry's decision. Harry had set the table for the revealing of emotions, and Takashi had shown they were reciprocated and that he would not be the least bit adverse to being with Harry in that sense. Now Harry had to come to his own decision.

"Wait, Mori-se – Takashi!" So Takashi stopped just outside Harry's room and immediately saw the worried look on Harry's face. He didn't even realize he had _moved_ when he felt Harry's hand in his, the other buried in slightly damp hair, and his mouth pressed tightly against Harry's... it felt good. He knew the worried look was about Harry's past and, more likely than not, the Dark wizards – such as Malfoy Sr. and Jr. – who were apparently after him. But both had seen them together in some capacity (Harry had even sucker punched the younger blond in Takashi's defense) and that was not the case!

Then his thoughts were wiped clean by the sensation of Harry's tongue dragging over the roof of his mouth. To borrow an expression from the wizard; sweet _Circe_ that felt good!

Indeed, Harry had _better_ not reject him. After this... well, Takashi very much doubted he was willing to do without Harry now he had him in his grasp. He might not be able to leave a mark, but he did turn the small garnet ring on Harry's hand about.

Harry was _his_.

_Omake #12: 2:12 pm, May 5, 1998 (pre-story)_

Morinozuka Takashi was now ten years old. Ten was a very important age in the Morinozuka household; it was the age in which he truly took over guardianship duties of his cousin, Haninozuka Mitsukuni. He been doing so ever since they started school, but now it was truly on his honor to make sure that Mitsukuni did not stray and was happy.

Takashi thanked his cousin for the thoughtful gift of a tanuki plushie (Mitsukuni had recently a stuffed rabbit from his grandmother and recently thought that Takashi should have a poofy friend as well, though Takashi preferred his animals alive) and was kind to all the people who came to his birthday party. He thanked them all kindly, even though he felt a bit awkward talking in front of them. Maybe he would be like his father, Hitoshi, and simply stay quiet when he got older. That sounded a lot easier.

Although the festivities had only just begun, Takashi was wandering the gardens rather than socializing with his classmates from Ouran Primary. It was only for a minute; he just wanted some peace and quiet from the loud children.

Only a moment in which he found a strange brown thing hanging from a tree. Unfortunately, he found it by bumping the hanging object with his head, as it sat on a low-hanging branch.

As it just so happened, this was a bee-hive. They weren't very happy with him.

Takashi wasn't very happy with the bees either by the end of it, and made that quite clear every time he saw one from then on. He liked his animals cute, furry, and living. Except bees. They could die for all he cared. To make that point more apparent, he stopped eating honey.

Ten years later, an elderly wizard whose name meant "bumblebee" wondered why a tall teen with striking gray eyes made him feel like the insect his family was named for.

**Yup, finally wrote the kiss from Takashi's POV. Hope I didn't disappoint. And yes, that's how I decided Takashi would be afraid of bees... Ooo! And there's a fanmade-omake courtesy of Shinigami Clara just below. It's awesome XDDD**

Omake:

Takashi's mind grinned viciously, although outwardly, his face was as impassive as ever and he continued to keep his silence. Dumbledore, on the other hand, was tearing his hair out in frustration.

"Talk damn you talk!" the old man screamed.

Takashi just blinked and continued to stare into space while his mind continued its vicious grinning.

This routine continued for the rest of Takashi's imprisonment.

"FREEZE!" The door burst inward as a legion of Aurors stormed into the room where Takashi was being held. They formed a semi circle around the two occupants, wands drawn.

Then, within the ranks of Aurors, Sirius stepped forward, he glanced around for a moment then directed his gaze at Takashi, "Where's Dumbledore?" he asked in confusion.

Takashi raised an eyebrow and turned HIS gaze towards the old man in front of him.

Sirius took a closer look at the other occupant and gasped, "what happened to him!?"

Takashi shrugged, "Frustration."

At Sirius's confused look Takashi explained: "He started with his hair, once that was gone, he did his beard."

It took a while to convince the rest of the Aurors that the bald and beardless old man was Dumbledore. Since then, Morinozuka Takashi has become a legend and the saying 'If you can't get out, at least take his hair out!' soon became a motto for Aurors under interrogation.

Owari


	35. Chapter 35

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Features: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 35

Sirius waved at Harry's retreating form, though the boy didn't see it. His godson disappeared to the backstage area and everyone settled down after the relative calm of the Black Magic Club performance. It should have been that they would be calming after seeing a magnificent and literally magical fire show, but since the school had organized it improperly, Sirius supposed it was alright. And for having to change two months worth of plans over the course of three days and have it go so well... it was certainly impressive.

Most impressive of all was that the Black Magic Club had been charming, something that impressed the students in the audience. Sirius had never _personally _met any members of the Black Magic Club (except for Kanazuki Reiko for all of two seconds when Harry's boyfriend was kidnapped) but their reputation was for being creepy, kooky, mysterious, spooky, and altogether ooky (1). Except Harry, who really couldn't be creepy if he tried. And he had tried, which just resulted in Sirius laughing his ass off.

As the announcer, a pretty girl from one of the upper years (or at least she looked too old for Harry's year), stepped up to the stage, a hush fell over the room. "Alright everyone, we have one last spot of entertainment for the evening before the Cherry Blossom Ball," she chirped happily. "Sorry the class president can't be here to announce them – though his performance with the Ballet Club in the other hall should be finishing up soon," a few giggles from the crowd, "but I'm pleased to announce that we have our most illustrious club, a mix of cultural exploration, artistic expression, and amazing compassion," was she describing the Host Club? If so, she had never met Kyouya, "I present to you the Ouran High School Host Club's International Vaudeville!"

Sirius grinned and joined in the raucous clapping – okay, so it was only the magic tables, in particular the Weasley table and his own (considering there were some magical members of some other families) since everyone else pretty much did a golf clap – as the curtains slowly raised. He couldn't help but want to see what the Hosts, and particularly Tamaki (the boy was a mad genius it seemed, even more so now that he had been so completely and utterly rejected by Haruhi), had cooked up.

Outside of Harry, the only students Sirius knew were the Hosts, admittedly some more than others. Probably Kyouya and Haruhi the best of the lot. Haruhi because they had been neighbors for months before he even started dating the girl's father; Kyouya because he had contacted Sirius almost as soon as Harry made the arrangement for a study area and they had kept in touch pretty well. Sirius' requests for the Hosts to try to pull Harry from his "shell" came with their own price of course, but even he could tell that Kyouya had his heart in the right place... sometimes.

Tamaki, the Hitachiin twins, and Mitsukuni were the only ones who Sirius hadn't spent too much time around. Tamaki because he was less of Harry's friend and more a friendly acquaintance type. Hikaru and Kaoru, while fun and hilarious and pranksters, never really sought him out except for the once to see his animagus transformation, and seemed too absorbed in their own world to notice Sirius even when he tried to draw them out. Mitsukuni... well, there was no real reason why Sirius didn't know the now-18-year-old (for all of week) very well. He just didn't.

He liked to think he was getting to know Harry's boyfriend. Harry had been dating the oldest of the Hosts for two months now (already beating out all but two of Sirius' relationships – one from when he was in the original Order, the other being his current relationship with Ranka – which was an accomplishment) and because of that Sirius had been seeing the teen in increasing amounts.

But that was far beyond the point! Sirius grinned as he saw the silhouettes of the Host Club on the stage, obviously in costume per usual. The curtain was halfway up when it began.

Unfortunately, "it" was not the Ouran High School Host Club International Vaudeville. The Hosts themselves were just as shocked as anyone else by what happened, because that was when the screams – screams of shock – began. Or they should have. All things considered, everyone should have been screaming.

After all, it's not everyday that you're sitting at a table, about to enjoy a performance, and suddenly find yourself flying. Not that this particular audience was flying, but they saw people flying. Those flying people, who, again, were _not_screaming, freaked out everyone on the ground as those flying people suddenly fell to the ground where before they might have gone unnoticed. Tables were flung to the sides of the room, knocking people over.

Sirius found himself stuck to a wall, spread-eagle, before he had even realized that there was anything happening and so he had the perfect view of the muggles falling from fifteen or more feet in the air, silently screaming as they were seemingly pulled through the grand doorway that led through the courtyard. All the doors had been slammed shut around the room, and Sirius found he wasn't the only one practically plastered to the wall. The Weasleys as well as several of the Japanese spectators were stuck to the walls at equal intervals while everyone else – Tonks' now distinctive pink head among them – were all spread-eagle on the floor.

That was when Sirius realized that he was screaming too, with just as little voice. A silencing enchantment of some sort.

Below the foot of the stage he could see a group of boys in various costumes from different cultures and times, obviously the Hosts, all sprawled in the exact same position as the rest of the people in the room, both those pinned to the walls and those on the floor. All except from a rather large constituency on the stage.

It didn't take much effort for Sirius to figure out who they were, the three at the head of the group would have made that obvious even without the Dark Mark that was branded to the still-hanging curtain or the masks being worn by all but the front three. He even could have identified them as Death Eaters without the uniform robes.

Still, to anyone well versed in recent British history, or who had seen the alert notices that had been pasted up, it would be hard to mistake Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, and Augustus Rookwood as anyone else. Bellatrix's wand waved through the air and, not really thinking much beyond the fact it was his sodding cousin up there and, "Gee, there were certainly a lot of muggles in this room, weren't there?" he opened his mouth in a shout.

His scream of "NO!" pervaded the air, drawing some curious Death Eaters' eyes, and drawing everyone else's attention to the fact that suddenly there was nothing to keep _them_ from screaming. Which everyone did, and quite a bit. Some Death Eaters pressed their hands to their ears, and Bellatrix started screeching something that was drowned out by the fearful cries of the masses.

Then Lucius waved his wand over the hall and the screaming died out with a choking sound. Sirius recognized the sensation as one of Snape's old favorites, one that the Marauders never figured out the incantation for (unlike _levicorpus_): the tongue-sticking hex, a spell that sticks the tongue to the roof of a man's (or woman's) mouth. It was certainly effective and, to the vindictive, more entertaining than a simple _silencio_. Sirius wouldn't be too ashamed to say that he had always wanted to use that particular spell on Snivellus.

It did, however, make Bellatrix stop trying to scream over everyone. "Muggle filth," she snarled at a more regular level (and in Japanese no less!), though it resonated all throughout the room. "But you're useful I suppose..." she paused before the sneer faded to a manic grin. "My my, is that my ickle niece, Nymphadora? Andy's little half-breed daughter? And lying beside my cousin's pet werewolf no less." Sirius tried to grunt around his tongue, but it didn't work out so well.

Sirius looked around again, hoping to see something, anything. Why were there people against the wall when everyone else was on the floor? It couldn't be a magic thing; Remus and Tonks were as magic as anyone, same with Fleur (her silvery-blonde hair stood out quite well in the grounded crowd). Yet Sirius was up against the wall, all four of the Weasleys present, Krum, and a small smattering of those who were family to the more native students, presumably muggle in origin. Then again, Sirius (much like Harry) had learned that the magical and muggle worlds in Asia were a _lot_ better integrated than in England or Ireland, the countries where Sirius had grown up.

Instead of watching his cousin monologuing (it was bound to happen), Sirius focused on Ranka. He wasn't safe, no safer than anyone else... there was no one who was safe.

Drawing his attention from the situation didn't help Sirius in the least as it was quickly drawn back by a sound that he never wanted to hear. Tonks' tongue had been unstuck it seemed, as her scream was not strangled, unlike the horrified scream that tore out of Sirius' mouth, and he suspected Remus' as well. The incantation of the Cruciatus Curse had been unmistakable.

And that would have set the muggles off screaming again, in fear of what was being done, if it weren't for the sudden end of Tonks' screaming and a loud pop, like that of a gun blasting (or a novice apparitioner), coming from the front of the room. Sirius wouldn't have dared to look away from his cousin-niece (2) if Bellatrix hadn't spoken in the most sickly-sweet of voices.

"It seems widdle baby Potter has come out to play," she cooed. Sirius' head whipped around and he realized quite suddenly that Harry had been out of the room. He hadn't even thought of Harry when they were pinned, too concerned with why... since when did he care for "why"? He always cared about playing the hero...

And now Harry had charged right into the dragon's den without a thought in his head. That much was obvious by the horrified look on his face and how he hadn't even noticed that there were people around. Probably just heard the screams and came running.

Great Merlin, they were more similar than Sirius had even thought.

* * *

Very painful, the Cruciatus Curse.

Harry was suddenly reminded quite starkly of this sensation that he hadn't felt in over eighteen months; honestly, he could go another eighteen _centuries _without having the ripping, burning, freezing, stabbing, _everything_ pain that accompanied what Harry considered the second to worst of the Unforgivable curses (Imperius being the worst, for taking away free will, and the Killing Curse being the least because, while the extinguishing of life was horrid, it seemed to Harry far less real than those that had succeeded upon his person to any extent). There was no preventing the mind-ripping scream that accompanies Cruciatus exposure, the only physical damage it caused outside of the obvious nerve-damage being throat damage.

It fell away suddenly and Harry reveled in the cool sensation of the wood stage on his forehead, soothing the raging ache. Or he liked to think it did. While he was no longer in pain – his nerves were sending the signal for endorphins by now and killing the lingering ache – he could feel his limbs spasming and his mouth tasted slightly of blood. He spit it out on the floor, though the taste of copper was not removed.

"Throw him with the rest of the filth, Bella," the cold voice of Lucius Malfoy cut a swath of pain through Harry's head, but then again so did being kicked in his stomach and tossed over the edge of the stage. Even though his eyes were open, Harry couldn't see any sign of what spell stuck him suddenly to a gap in the floor. He was stuck on his back staring at the ceiling and the lip of the stage, but otherwise he could see nothing ahead of him. However, he could see the Hosts in the corner of his eye, and he was quite certain that he was lying on top of Haruhi's hand.

This did nothing to reassure him of the situation.

In previous adventures, Harry at least had some idea as to what was going on. First year he knew that, whoever he faced, they were after the Philosopher's Stone and that there would be obstacles involving all the mandatory Hogwarts courses (except History and Astronomy). Second year he knew about the basilisk. Third year... well, he found out quickly what was really happening even if he didn't really know beforehand. And in fourth he knew someone wanted something bad to happen to him in the TriWizard Tournament, and Voldemort really _did_ have a thing for monologuing that let him know exactly what would happen in both encounters of 2005.

Harry really did not like being out of the loop. He'd gone from being scared out of his wits to being in intense pain and finally fallen into a pit of worry and confusion. He darted his eyes about, but he couldn't catch anything else in his vision but the slightly blurred forms of his fellow floor-mates. It was a bit curious that none of them were talking while the Death Eaters all murmured to themselves.

No one could ever call Harry anything short of foolhardy, much as he tried to be otherwise. "So," he called to the ceiling, "what are you lot up to this time?" His throat wasn't too happy with him, but Harry could live with that, though he did wince. He hadn't bothered keeping it to English since he might as well see if he couldn't get the information out to the muggles if they could do something. A few surprised grunts and squeaks came from nearby, which ruled out silencing charms on everyone. Though he did expect some more protest for the self-assured muggle elite.

Harry barely recognized the face of Augustus Rookwood from the security notices as he leaned over the edge of the stage, a superior smirk plastered on his face. He had been in the Department of Mysteries in the first war before Karkaroff ratted him out, but that was really all Harry knew about the man who, from the looks of it, was running the show with Bellatrix and Malfoy Sr.

"And why should we tell you that, Potter?" He wasn't mad like Bellatrix. In fact, from his position five feet below the man's shoes, Harry could tell that Rookwood was actually quite calm in comparison. He probably didn't share the Malfoys' short fuse (Draco was so easy to wind up, though Harry wasn't any better), and he seemed amused by everything, yet still wary. Trust Voldemort to have had only one follower who wasn't bat-shit crazy. "From where I'm standing, it looks like we've already won. What does it matter to us if this filth remain ignorant?"

"Voldemort always did." A very slight twitch of the ex-Unspeakable's eye was the only sign at his displeasure about having his now-dead Lord's name spoken aloud. "Every time I met him he told me what he was going to do and what led up to that moment. Aren't you going to uphold the tradition? I'm helpless, at your mercy; so what are you guys planning on doing to me _this_ time?"

Rookwood leaned back so that he was gone from Harry's (limited) line of sight. "Your son was right, Lucius," he stated clearly. "The kid is full of himself."

"We might as well explain," drawled Lucius. Harry could imagine the amused expression, probably vicious, that would look out of place on that stone cold face. "There's nearly three hours before we have anything else to do. Watching the muggles panic will provide some entertainment, I should think." There were the thuds of shoes slapping the wooden stage and all three of the "lead" Death Eaters stood at the lip of the stage. "Just remember, Potter, that you wanted to know." The devilish smirk that flitted across Lucius' face made Harry wonder if he would rather _not_ know.

"And since the little half-breed-who-lived wants to know, who are we to deny him?" Bellatrix giggled. "But where _shall_ we start? If we are to do honor to the Dark Lord, we have to start at the right place."

Harry was tempted to state "the beginning", but he doubted his interjecting would go unrewarded. And he didn't want to take the chance of his reward missing and hitting Takashi or anyone else instead. He was held too immobile for even shudder at the thought.

It seemed Lucius did not have the same issues in deciding as the sole female Death Eater present (so far as Harry knew) and he dove straight in. Voldemort would be proud. Although _he_ probably would have explained about magic to the muggles, but Lucius received an EE for Effort regardless.

"When the Dark Lord's curse rebounded upon him for the second time," Lucius began, "the traitor, Mistress Zabini, ratted us out to the aurors and left all her fellow Death Eaters to the dementors, including her husband at the time. You, of course, were safe and sound. Some of those among us now were already in Azkaban from the First Rise, for others such as myself this was the first time we were placed in the penitentiary. A lucky few were not placed in Azkaban at all. Already the Dark Lord had plans in motion to break out his faithful, plans that would have come into fruition mere months after the day he was to kill _you_, Potter. Of course, those plans were slowed considerably due to the Dark Lord's absence, but I knew the plan, as did some who evaded capture.

"Did you know that magical twins share a telepathic link? Of course you did, associating with those blood traitor filth," Harry saw Lucius' arm gesture somewhere to the side of the room, but Harry couldn't really see. He assumed that the Death Eater was pointing out the Weasley twins at their patch of floor, wherever that was. "The same may be said of married couples, if they perform the correct rituals. I managed to contact my wife and the plan remained in action. It took months upon months, but we were freed and hiding out in the Lestrange family home for a few weeks before we figured out where to go."

"I'm going to assume that, in whatever independent studies you have had, Mr. Potter, that you did not once go over the basic knowledge of the workings of magic that each pureblood child is inundated with from birth," Rookwood started his explanation. Considering it sounded like he was about to expound upon the mechanics of magic, it made sense considering he had been an Unspeakable. "You, of course, would remain oblivious to that which is just below your nose. The reason why we came to Japan rather than any other nation, even Atlantis or the Hidden Nations. It has nothing to do with _your_ reasons; we need less to hide than you, surely, and even more so we are not so bloody enchanted with the culture of the little country. And doubly so, our reasons have nothing to do with you."

If Harry had considered tuning out Rookwood just because what he was saying was boring, he was listening then. Harry's eyes widened marginally before narrowing.

"What do you mean nothing to do with me?" Harry snapped angrily. "I've run into Death Eaters three times since I came to Japan; you've followed me and even attacked a little ramen shop that I frequent! Are you saying that's all a _coincidence_? That we all just so happened to pick Japan: that your attacking my school has nothing to do with any petty grudge from Voldemort: that encountering you lot in October was not you lot tailing me, nor Draco appearing at a_private_ ski resort at the same time I was there? Because Merciful Morgana, that sure as hell sounds like what you're saying Rookwood!"

Of course that wasn't the case! Hadn't Malfoy Sr. goaded him by pointing out that his image had been in the Japanese papers? And Draco had certainly been having a go at him, hadn't he? He'd been watching Harry, that much was obvious. Houshakuji Renge had even mentioned that Draco had been asking about him while Takashi was still teaching him to snowboard at first.

_But I didn't really appear in the paper until after the first Death Eater sighting was reported_, Harry recalled, neurons firing like there was no tomorrow – as there was a good chance that that was the case. _And Malfoy... he didn't really do anything. I started it that time, and I_ended_it._

"That is precisely what I am saying, Mr Potter," Rookwood sneered. Obviously he was resisting whatever translation he was using to be able to say "Mr Potter" rather than Potter-san or the like. "We didn't even know you were in Japan until you appeared in some muggle periodical in September. Not that we would have known you from Adam, but your godfather can only know so many messy-haired little boys. You had nothing to do with any of our decisions thus far.

"But back on track I think. Do you know where magic comes from, Mr Potter? No? I didn't think that you would. The difference between a wizard and a muggle is that wizards can channel magic. I say channel because magic, while it is contained in the body, does not come from the human race. The earth _radiates_ magical energy at such levels as you wouldn't believe. It travels from location to location using -"

"Ley-lines, yes," Harry replied. He didn't need that particular lecture. "They can't be identified except for weird things happening around them without living aid, like haunted houses, erratic weather fluctuation, and people with unnaturally long lives. Are you saying you're attacking Ouran because it's on a ley-line? Because there are thousands running all over the earth. You didn't need to come to bloody _Japan_ to find some."

"Of course we didn't choose this pathetic excuse for a school to attack because of ley-lines," Bellatrix snorted. "It's on a Node you simpleton! A fount of magic that spouts ley-lines! This land has so much magic saturated in it that it's a wonder you managed to apparate on the grounds without splinching yourself. Only the most powerful of rituals can work on a Node, rituals specifically created to harness its power. And that's what we're doing!" Harry knew what a Node was. He'd read about them and where they were, except -

"No need to get ahead of ourselves Bella," Lucius sighed, sounding exasperated with his sister-in-law. "You're the one who wants to do our Lord an honor. However... there are seven Nodes on the face of the Earth. Six of them are solely magical areas, warded against interference, where we would be bound to be caught. Outside of the one Node that could not be wrested from muggle hands, there are none that we could harness without anyone realizing what we were up to."

"So if you just wanted to access this Node - the one Node that, according to the books, _no one actually knows where it is_ - that Ouran is apparently right on top of, then why did you blow up a bunch of empty shops and a bleeding _lake_?" That had been bugging Harry... might as well die without any questions about what had been going on the past months.

"Is he completely dense?" The voice was quiet, not one that Harry recognized. Probably one of the "follower" Death Eaters. There was a "shh"ing noise and the voice gave an "oof" as if he had just been elbowed in the side.

Well, didn't _Harry_ feel smart, being called dense by the grunts.

"Should have _langlock_ed the brat," Rookwood grumbled. Harry wondered what "_langlock_" was, and assumed it had to do with why everyone else was being quiet. "Those attack sites _are_ on ley-lines, in particular where the primary ley-line starts splitting into smaller rivulets of magical energy. Minor preparation rituals were performed on those sites to cause a minor magical back-up for increased effectiveness of the ritual that will be performed here; the explosions were merely to distract the aurors from our primary goal by finding any sign of the rituals performed there. This magical backup has, since Halloween, slowly increased the concentration of magic on this site and has nearly doubled in that time, creating the prime circumstances for this evening's ritual."

No one spoke after that, and it dragged along a bit longer than a dramatic pause ought to. Harry rolled his eyes and asked; he might as well know how he was going to die, right?

"So what all powerful ritual are you going to be performing tonight that involves pinning everyone to the floor? For that matter, not killing people in your attacks doesn't seem to be the Death Eater style." The latter he been stuck on for ages and he _really_ wanted an answer. Badly.

"This is a bloodless ritual," Lucius sounded rather displeased. "Each attack site has to be free of bloodshed, death, or mortal injury at the time of the ritual. We couldn't have killed so much as a mouse at those sights. A single drop of blood would have ruined the entire thing; and here is the same, except that here... well, the main ritual requires a sacrifice of at least two muggles, half-breeds, or mudbloods for every pureblood involved in the casting as well as thirteen purebloods, though the more filth involved the greater the effectiveness. And wouldn't you know it, precisely thirteen purebloods showed up to this... thing that this school of yours is doing. I must say, if it weren't for you inviting the blood traitors along with you tonight, we would have to sacrifice some of our ranks this evening."

"The ritual itself allows each pureblood one wish," Bellatrix crowed out into the room, her head thrown back. Not that Harry could have seen her face much past her bust, but all the same. "We can have anything we want! Our Lord will return, we could destroy the mudbloods... anything." She sounded _giddy_, very giddy. That was not a good sign.

Before Harry could ask any further questions, Lucius waved his wand lazily and Harry suddenly found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, like he had had a lot of peanut butter or something except without the yummy peanut taste. He grunted in surprise, but he couldn't move to do anything about it at this point, so there was no use to it.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. He was going to die. Honestly, he had drawn that conclusion so many times in his life that he stopped counting when he was eight years old, and here he was at 16 wondering how much longer he had. Logic, something that he apparently lacked, dictated that the Death Eaters would do... whatever they were doing at midnight, or perhaps at three in the morning, the Dead Hour. He wanted to rant and rage. He was going die - _die -_ in the most anticlimactic of deaths that he had been faced with to date.

Even worse, everyone he cared about was going to die too. Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Ranka, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Krum, Fleur, Tamaki, Kyouya, Hani, Hikaru, Kaoru, Haruhi, and... Takashi.

Harry did _not_ want Takashi to die. But there wasn't anything he could do at this point, now was there? Instead of being calm, he had allowed himself to go mad in that dressing room. He had fled in the only way he could think of and landed on the wrong end of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand instead of somewhere safe where he could perhaps call the aurors.

And now he was stuck to the floor, same as everyone else so far as he could tell, and he was going to go down without so much as a token battle like Voldemort had meant to give him in his second-to-last attempt.

With one last sigh, Harry surrendered himself to the depressive state of circular thoughts. He did not want Takashi to die.

There was nothing more important to him at that moment, not even the idea of Voldemort being wished back to life.

* * *

Like most everyone else, Morinozuka Takashi had glued his eyes to the ceiling rather than attempt to see over the lip of the stage to view his captors. He did not want to see their faces again, he hadn't when they shoved the Hosts off the stage, though he had seen them during the fall down, and he didn't particularly care to look at them. How could he? They were the same people who had attacked and hounded Harry, _his Harry_, and now they were lording their magicks over everyone else.

If he had the option, Takashi would leap out and hit all of them quite viciously with his shinai. He had seen how wizards moved. Even Sirius, who was apparently a very talented duelist, had a habit of standing mostly in one place and relying on magic to subdue his opponent. They were unused to dealing those who could move quickly, physically hit, and – dare he think it? - _dodge_.

He was faster than them. He and Mitsukuni could go up there and takeout half of them before they were half-done incanting their curses, hexes, and jinxes, which would still be dodged.

Or they could if they weren't stuck to the ground like this.

Takashi had tried to do something when he heard Harry's screams ringing through the hall. He damned the showroom for having such good acoustics as the screams of pure pain rang out, reverberating in everything. It went on for what felt like hours though in reality it couldn't have been even so much as a minute. Harry was being tortured and he couldn't do anything.

He had been somewhat relieved when Harry had been kicked over the edge to lie at his side if only because it meant he was away from _them._ He was even more relieved when Harry started talking, even if his voice was a bit more hoarse than usual from screaming. He wanted to reassure Harry of his presence somehow, but what could he really do? He couldn't so much as twitch his little finger. This was the _end_.

Instead he paid attention to everything that the Death Eaters were saying. Every word about their plans, every retort and change in tone as they gained fervor, he heard it all and paid as close attention as he could. It was all he _could_ do, even with the shinai tied to his waist for his samurai costume (he had a pirate costume and an old-English style ensemble like what is worn for Shakespearian plays under the loose fitted hakama and kimono). Because if he couldn't move, he was helpless.

Takashi did not like being helpless. If he was helpless, it meant he was in need of help and that he could not fulfill his duties or help others. He was a helping kind of person; Sirius had mentioned that Harry and Takashi were alike in that both had "hero-complexes" which was not at all inaccurate. At least Harry could speak and help in the only way he could.

Unfortunately, he couldn't discern much from their speech. He didn't know enough about magic. In the atlas Harry had given him, he had seen pages upon pages mapping out ley-lines. They were less lines and more like arteries or veins branching out from seven key points to create something akin to a magical cardiovascular system in the earth. He'd been curious about whether or not there was something similar in the human body, but he was so fascinated by everything else that had been in the atlas and the historical texts that he just forgot about it.

Now he wished that he had gone back to look over the pages on Nodes and Ley-lines instead of moving on to the purely magical areas that were hidden from muggle view. Maybe then this whole thing would make more sense to him. But he hadn't even really noticed that there was such a focal point of magical energy in Japan.

When Harry was silenced, Takashi was almost relieved. At some point the Death Eaters would stop humoring him and Takashi didn't want to hear Harry screaming anymore. Not in pain (3).

Hours passed. Occasionally the Death Eaters would direct their wands somewhere, not that Takashi allowed himself to see that. Instead he heard the screams issued from mouths blocked by tongues. He heard them laughing, some genuinely and others nervously, at the displays. One picked up the set of clubs from the stage that Hikaru and Kaoru were going to start juggling when they began their vaudeville show and started flying them through the air to scare everyone else.

Occasionally, the dark haired witch would start ranting about things that Takashi had never heard. Rookwood would unsilence people and try to get them to ask questions which he would then answer or ignore at his own leisure. Usually they were "why" or "how" this was being done, which Takashi ignored. He knew why well enough, and the how had been explained well enough.

But he still paid attention. He tried to soak up each iota of imparted knowledge. The magical rating system that separated muggles from squibs, squibs from wizards, and wizards from magical Lords (apparently different from the magical Lordship that Sirius possessed) was something he picked up quickly and despised. Level one and two were muggles, three and four were squibs (though squibs could also technically have the same levels as muggles), five through eight were wizards (though some fours were accepted to magical schools as well), and nine and ten were what made a "Lord" along the lines of a Dark Lord. Takashi also heard the word "sorcerer" used to describe the upper echelons.

He wanted to understand as much about this as he could, and it still made no sense. But these people were all mad, no matter what they appeared. Even if they had been sane before, the dementor creatures had obviously changed them.

And all the while he could see the slow rise and fall of Harry's chest out of the corner of his eye. Proof that he was alive... and, oddly enough, asleep. He had actually fallen asleep as if he could ignore the screams and questions and thudding of heavy leather-clad feet upon the stage above and tile that made up the rim of the room. Whatever had made Harry apparate straight in... perhaps that had exhausted him. Even Takashi wouldn't have charged straight in, and he knew Harry would have tried at least _some_ sort of subversion rather than popping up right in front of his enemy as if expecting to create some sort of parlay.

But Harry woke up soon enough as the Death Eaters burst suddenly into action, all moving to the edges of the room.

The clock tower struck the first stroke of midnight.

**Author's Note: It is so hard to write when my mom is constantly trying to read over my shoulder and having me watch Doctor Who all day. I love Doctor Who, really I do, but I was through three seasons in just a couple days. Overload much? To be fair, I was playing Pokemon Diamond on my brothers' new DSs on Sunday, but still!!!**

**Yup, that's the Death Eater plot! I feel special. It's not the stereotypical revenge plot, nor do the Death Eaters need Harry in particular. They hardly even think of him. I can't help but feel like I wrote something that isn't completely clichéd... and even more so with how it ends... muhahaha!!!**

**To all my American mates, Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy the triptophan! To everyone else, see you next time :D (If you lot want to know about the little clues I've been putting in, tell me and I'll list them next chapter.)**

**Oh, and for those who noticed, sorry but I did not name the reporter Honda Toru after the character from Fruit's Basket. I have never watched or read it (I intend to soon, to see what it's all about at least, but I haven't yet). Honestly, I had no clue when I named the reporter. I picked Honda because it is a common name (and I can write it in kanji...) and Toru because it means "penetrating" (it was fitting for a reporter... no matter how dirty it could be taken).**

(1) The Addams family! *snap snap* Seriously though, that line is from the Addams Family theme song, not me. I'm not that brilliant *sigh*

(2) Cousin-niece is a phrase my cousin-aunt (my dad's cousin, Burning Man's own Glenda the Good Witch) made up. I find it fitting.

(3) Couldn't help it, had to it... sorry, I'm dirty-minded... ehheh...

_Omake #13: 11:27 am, December 6, 2006 (Chapter 20)_

Takashi adjusted Harry's position on top of the mountain. They had been snowboarding for just about an hour now, and Takashi was more than a little impressed by Harry's progress, though he had mistakes of posture and balance still. He had chuckled a bit the first time Harry overturned himself, but he kept at it with his oblivious admiree.

The morning thus far had been a bit of a surprise. When he had gone in to wake Harry, he had been able to tell that the first year was awake by the way that he had failed to stir and the rhythm of his breathing. He expected Harry to inform him that he was awake; what Takashi had not expected was for Harry to inform _him_ that he was awake. Harry shouldn't have even known that Takashi, or any Hosts outside of the first years, was at the resort since they had only met with Kaoru last night. But that didn't stop Harry from addressing Takashi directly.

Okay, so he had said "Senpai", but he never addressed Mitsukuni, Kyouya, or Tamaki as _just_ Senpai. He had obviously known who the wake-up call was. But he was just as obviously hiding... maybe because of the incident on Friday? But that still didn't make sense because Harry shouldn't have known Takashi was there!

Still, Takashi persisted. He poked Harry in the side, just lightly, to prod him out of bed. Harry denied the unvoiced request; Takashi couldn't help but be curious as to how much Harry could understand without even looking at him and so he drew attention to the blanket that had fallen to the floor by touching Harry's forearm that was wrapped around his pillow.

And Harry saw through him without even looking, instead saying he was plenty warm. Takashi was more than a little impressed by that one. But he also didn't believe the young wizard; the hairs on his arm were sticking up with goose-flesh. Obviously he was _not_ warm.

"I said as far as you know, not that I did," Harry admitted without prompting. Had he known Takashi didn't believe him? _How_ had he known? "My point is that I wouldn't get out of this bed even if you paid me." Well, Takashi wouldn't have thought of paying someone just to get out of bed, but if it meant Harry wasn't going to hide any longer... "It's just an expression, Senpai. It means that I'm not getting up." Ah.

So Takashi tried to convince him to get up and mentioned skiing, which was the entire point of the trip. Harry retorted by saying he was going to go snowboarding. Takashi liked snowboarding; he and Mitsukuni did a lot of activities of course, but that was their favorite winter sport. It would be a good opportunity... still, Harry didn't want to get up, even when Takashi offered to teach him how to snowboard. He said he would do it though, and Takashi stuck by his word, no matter how little he spoke in general. Though, Harry did roll over slightly to mock him.

And it was friendly mocking, thankfully, though Harry immediately went back to his pillow-cuddling. Takashi was intensely jealous of that pillow. He hardly even realized he had moved when he had the offending article of down and cloth in his own clutches and Harry was curling into a ball. Well, that wasn't going to happen. Takashi grabbed Harry's arm and slowly pulled him into a sitting position.

He wasn't very good with English, but he sort of understood what Harry shirt said. He didn't understand what it _meant_, but he could translate the words well enough. He understood it a lot better when Harry explained what a "seeker" was and why one would ride a broom to begin with. He was lucky that Harry was already retreating to the bathroom else his lightly tinged cheeks would have been seen.

So yes, his entire morning had been more than a little different, even beyond that he did not usually wake up his friends in the morning (not counting Mitsukuni). Harry had doubted his word upon hearing others requesting instruction, but Takashi proved himself. And the ecstatic look on Harry's face made it entirely worth it.

He tried not to think too much as he physically maneuvered Harry into the proper position before they both went down the mountain back to the resort for lunch. Takashi slid to a stop behind Harry as the first-year pulled down his own ski mask and grinned. Takashi reciprocated both actions, though he was more reserved – as would be expected – but it faded soon as Harry's look suddenly went from appreciation and happiness to rage as his gaze slid away from Takashi. Naturally, the kendo champion was curious as to what would cause Harry to do an emotional one-eighty like that.

The fact that Harry was stomping over to a pale blond boy who could easily pass for Aryan didn't seem to fit.

Harry seemed intent at first to have the conversation in English, but the blond boy responded in Japanese as if it were second nature to switch from one to another. Probably a wizard then, and by the looks of it, one who Harry did not get on well with. The boy was haughty, just above average height for a Brit (so a good two or three inches shorter than Takashi and considerably taller than Harry), and seemed completely disgusted by his surroundings. The worst sort of spoiled rich child, the sort who never lasted long at Ouran.

The crowning surprise of Takashi's morning came with a solid _smack_ of flesh on flesh as Harry gave what was actually a very good right hook considering Harry had obviously never physically struck anyone before. Harry seemed just as surprised. Takashi was going to lead Harry away from the other wizard – he had even managed to back Harry up a few steps – but Harry just bolted.

And Takashi couldn't even bring himself to run after Harry just yet.

_Omake #14: Newspaper article_ _(pre-story)_

_**Betrayal Most Foul  
Harry Potter speaks out about mistreatment by Albus Dumbledore**_

_November 17, 2005_

_This Friday, Harry Potter requested a special interview to reveal the truth of his childhood,_writes _Daily Prophet_Special Correspondent, Rita Skeeter. _Having woken up from his two month coma, Harry is, even as you read this article, being knighted for his second defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He revealed in the exclusive interview that he would be leaving the country for Ireland as soon as the ceremony has ended._

_But the question is, what has motivated the Boy-Who-Lived to flee the United Kingdom? The obvious answer would be bad memories spawned by his aunt and uncle, the Dursley family, and the constant abuse he underwent while in their care. However, the Vanquisher-Of-You-Know-Who has cited completely different reasons for his sudden departure._

"_It's because of Dumbledore," states Harry firmly in his interview with Rita Skeeter. "I've been manipulated my whole life, and I knew it on some level, but then I heard him admit it with my own ears. I found out that not even my own best friend, Ron Weasley, was really my friend. Apparently he's been on some sort of payroll from Dumbledore that the Headmaster was taking out of my own Gringott's account, same as his little sister. Worse, he was planning to have her slip me some sort of love potion called Amortentia. I've hardly exchanged more than ten sentences with Ginny in my life!"_

_That's right, Harry Potter claims that Ginevra Weasley has, under the orders and pay of Albus Dumbledore, been attempting to force Harry Potter to fall in love with her. Not only that, but through Ron Weasley the vaunted defeater of Gellert Grindelwald has been attempting to mold Harry into something lesser than himself._

_So, what will this mean for Headmaster Dumbledore? Something deeper than these small revelations is going on, and I will endeavor to uncover that mystery. Keep your eye on the Daily Prophet._

**Yeah... so I'm sleepy, but I promised myself that I would post this tonight and gosh darn it I am! Hope you liked the omake.**


	36. Chapter 36

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64. **Long Author's Note at the end (please at least skim), story part is actually quite short (compared to everything else), no omake  
**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Featuring: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

Chapter 36

Contrary to popular belief – or Takashi's anyway – Harry did not spend his time before midnight sleeping. He was thinking. As a matter of fact, he was thinking a lot, about a variety of things, mostly surrounding the dire situation and how he could do absolutely nothing. While he was talking he could at least mentally prepare those around him, and himself, for the obviously imminent death. When his tongue had been stuck to the roof of his mouth, Harry found himself more helpless than he could ever remember.

In every life-or-death situation Harry had been in, he had had options. The troll? He could have run away. The bucking broomstick? He could have let go. Facing down Quirrell he could have backed down and relinquished the Stone. All of second year could have been avoided by obeying Dobby, he didn't have to seek out Ginny, and he could have played dead when Fawkes healed him rather than face down Riddle. Third year, he had the option of running away, of not saving Sirius, and in fourth, while he couldn't avoid the situations, he could make his own way through the Tasks or forfeit during the final task. Even facing Voldemort he had options: allowing himself to die, leaving Cedric's body behind, different choices of spells, the works.

Hell, even when he'd been kidnapped he'd been able to _try_ to save himself by uselessly brandishing the ornamental sword that had been on the wall of Malfoy Manor. He'd had options upon options every time he was confronted with death, so being stuck without any impact was a shock.

The fact that he was literally stuck to the floor, completely immobile but for his face and the fact that he could flex any muscle not on the backside of his body, was even worse really. Because he was looking up, he could see Death Eaters who came to the stage's edge to taunt the muggles.

So he didn't look.

He didn't really think about feigning sleep, he simply closed his eyes, ignored the uncomfortable pressure that made him feel as though gravity had been multiplied – obviously a side-effect of whatever sticking spell had been used – and breathed slow and shallow. It didn't occur to him that anyone would be looking at him (he couldn't bear to try to look at Takashi in this moment, especially when he could hardly see him to begin with) would think him asleep, at ease even, rather than the ball of nerves that he truly was. But, then, no one would be looking, would they?

_**Dong**_

A loud bell sounded suddenly, the same one that proclaimed the hour every day and every hour, and a stampede of feet across marble and wood caused Harry to acknowledge the existence of the rest of the world and leave his spiral of thought. It was time to face his death. This flurry of movement did nothing to help Harry's nerves.

_**Dong**_

"Get your arses in gear!" Bellatrix screamed over the din, obviously not even thinking to make use of a simple _Sonorus_. "Mulciber, ready the –"

_**Dong**_

" – Courtyard! I said it's in the bloody courtyard!" Malfoy snapped somewhere to the East wall. "So help me Merlin, if you can't follow some simple –"

_**Dong**_

" – Patterns are all wrong," Rookwood's voice was calmer than either of the others, though it boomed at a level known only to those using enhancement spells of some sort. "Space them more evenly or –"

_**Dong**_

Harry tried to take something, anything in as the Death Eaters ran to and fro to set up the last of the ritual. Why they waited until the clock started chiming, he could say, but that seemed to be what they had been intending all along. They gave themselves scarcely more than ten seconds to set up their ritual beyond sticking all the crowd to the floor (and 13 purebloods to the wall from what he heard), and yet things seemed to be running smoothly.

"More to the left Avery!" Rookwood snapped.

_**Dong**_

"Set up containment _now!_" A shudder passed through Harry at the last syllable to leave Lucius' mouth. A shudder of magic, though he had no idea what. Just that it was strange.

"And –"

_**Dong**_

" – Don't let any body parts out of that circle!" Rookwood snapped. "Look, you just have to –"

_**Dong**_

" – Swish and flick!" screeched Bellatrix from somewhere to Harry's left. "Swish and flick I said! What are you, some first year mudblood? Just get on –"

_**Dong**_

" – Top of the world!" Some nearby Death Eater giggled. "I'll ask to rule a nation. Atlantis I think..."

"Oi! I want Atlantis!" Another Death Eater protested loudly.

"Well we can always share –"

_**Dong**_

" – A piece of cake," Walden MacNair's throaty chuckle echoed from the stage. "That what this is! A sodding cakewalk. And why did we have to come here of all –"

_**Dong**_

"Places! Everyone get into your places or it won't be the aurors you want to run from!" Lucius bellowed. One final flurry of movement, pops, bangs, slams, and smacks before –

_**Dong**_

A loud crackle burst through the room, like lightning, and it tinged the room a brilliant shade of crimson, rather like the blood that was forbidden from interacting with the ritual.

_Bye, Takashi_, Harry thought. He kept his eyes wide open.

Even if he had to take his fate lying down, he would at least face it as best he could.

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange née Black was practically cackling with glee. Well, alright, she _was_ cackling with glee. It was eleven thirty by the local time, one hour until midnight on the seventh of the month. Eleven rituals performed, creating a shape of no magical significance but that it was a shape chosen by magic itself. Eleven rituals that, as the last of them, would grant Bellatrix her greatest desire.

The ritual in question would summon a djinn of great power who would grant one wish to anyone involved in freeing it – those who lived to tell the tale that is. It would take the power of at least twenty wizards and witches – they had forty – and the sacrifice of at least thirteen magical cores. Naturally, the most powerful to offer up would be those of purebloods, and better yet they had found some blood traitors in the crowd to act as those sacrifices.

Of course, some of the newer recruits had asked questions regarding certain participants. One of the new girls, Charlotte Pamplemousse (1), had protested the use of Viktor Krum as one of the thirteen sacrifices. Bellatrix stopped that by asking the girl if she would rather take his place.

Then there was Marcus Flint, a relatively recent Slytherin graduate – only a couple years out – who had asked about the half-veela named Delacour. It was obvious what he would rather use the half-breed for, but Bellatrix quelled any urges _he_ might have either, only in a more violent manner than she had Charlotte. But she hadn't broken anything. Not permanently least ways.

"Let me get this through to you," she informed the young wizard who was making very close friends with the heel of her boot. "Those creatures are not human; they are as far from humanity, wizards and witches, as can come. They are _impure_, the scum of the earth. The veela-girl is just as disgusting as my cousin's pet werewolf or those little mudblood urchins. They are on the floor for a reason Flint – to be looked down upon."

Flint would have nodded were it not for her heel on the bridge of his nose. As it was, he could formulate no response between that and the dangerous walnut wand pointed at a very delicate bit of anatomy. She took his silence for acquiescence and allowed the teen to return to the full and upright position.

Bellatrix – known to her enemies sometimes as Hella-bitch (the idea of one Frank Longbottom, deceased) – cackled lightly before practically _skipping_ over to the edge of the stage where Rookwood was still doing his little Q&A thing. Yes, in less than half an hour she could wish her Lord back to life and all would be well. He would approve of such wholesale slaughter of muggles in the effort to return him, surely. The dried up muggle corpses, crackling with flames from the djinn's summoning.

"The squibs are down as well because you are bad stock," Rookwood informed a blond boy who, from what Bellatrix had seen before the attack, was in a Black Magic Club with Potter (oh how glad she was that Potter chose _this_ school to attend). In fact, the boy might have passed for a Malfoy were his eyes not so bright; he was certainly pale enough despite the fact that he was obviously at least of some asian descent. "Squibs are a punishment on a family who stray from the pureblood way, for marrying the impure or any other number of reasons. Squibs breed only squibs."

"That's not true! My little sister is going to be a fully fledged witch!" The boy snapped. Bellatrix smiled slightly. So _that_ was the little girl's brother? Bellatrix flicked her gaze to the little blonde girl who had fallen unconscious on the wall. She couldn't have been more than four, maybe even five years old. Fresh magic for the djinn to devour. "And my parents are both squibs, same as I am."

The squib boy – for that was all Bellatrix knew to call him – seemed more proud than anything. Not frightened at all... though had she known his character and habits, she would know that his lack of being creepy was a sign of his fear.

Still, she sent one of Snape's "_langlock_" hexes at the boy who grunted in surprise before falling silent again. Honestly, the Japanese language irked her to no end, but after spending the better part of a year in the country, she had learned that it was best to simply silence them, in whatever manner she pleased. Sadly, in this instance, she couldn't just kill the blighters.

She whiled away the time by casting the cruciatus on random muggles. She considered using it on Potter again – what a wake-up call! – but refrained. It might cause a burst of accidental magic, which she absolutely did _not _want to happen. It could screw up the entire ritual to come.

Then the midnight bell began and everyone on stage burst into motion, running and apparating about as needed. Bellatrix snapped orders as quickly as she could, berating Flint when he failed to perform a simple _Wingardium Leviosa_ to get the runic jackets in place on one of the wall decorations (better known as Viktor Krum). They had a very limited space to work in, but they managed to get the last of the runes placed (pre-drawn of course) at the clock's final stroke, true midnight.

Midnight was actually a strange time to perform a dark ritual; normally they were performed at three am because it was the "dead hour," the time when most people are at their deepest sleep and when people most often died in hospitals. It was one of the few times that three was considered a dark number... but that was entirely beside the point.

With Lucius and Rookwood, Bellatrix slapped her hand on the main rune, the one that had been placed on the stage. This action was mirrored all across the room as Death Eaters all touched the runes – excluding those attached to the pureblooded prisoners – and Bellatrix couldn't help but grin as the magic flowed from her body to feed to ritual like a lake into irrigation canals, mingling with the greater font that was the Easternest Node.

The effect was immediate. The temperature skyrocketed and visible lines of magic surged through the room like vibrant red lightning. It crackled over Bellatrix's skin and she shuddered, all her instincts screaming to get away from the heat, that sensation, the unmistakable feeling of _dark magic_. But she leaned in to its touch instead; Bellatrix, both as a Black and a Lestrange, had never been one to listen to something to simple and _muggle_ as _instincts_.

Every nerve was on fire, and she could feel sweat beading all over her body from the intense heat that came from the red lightning that pawed at her. It was perfect, any moment there would be fire and death and the djinn!

When the touch receded, the most infamous of Voldemort's Inner Circle allowed her eyes to flutter open and watch the lightning again even though it burned her eyes to watch.

_Just another moment_, she grinned manically, watching the center of the circle. Red lighting crackled in a dome. _Just one more..._

* * *

A harsh sweat broke out over Takashi's skin, the air thick with heat. He swallowed thickly, only barely noticing that his tongue had been freed from whatever spell it had been put under by his captors. This was the second time in a month that he was helpless, only this time he knew that his freedom would not be won by aurors and magic; this time there was no escape but of his own making. And he couldn't make it.

As a bolt of red-hot magic crackled over his chest, Takashi flinched away.

Meaning he moved.

The National Kendo Champion realized immediately the implications of such and slowly made sure that his idea was correct, and it was. At some point, not only had his tongue been freed of its binding, but his body as well. He could move, all his limbs and muscles. The shinai that went with his costume was free for use.

Only there was nothing to use it on.

Still, mobility to his limbs allowed for more than attack. Takashi sat quickly and carefully and was not surprised to find that Harry was just where he believed him to be (Takashi had very good peripheral vision) and did not hesitate in trying to pry him up. Harry did not move, but the surprise on his face at Takashi's ability to do so was apparent.

So was his wish for Takashi to find some escape, but Takashi was not going to leave his boyfriend behind. Or his cousin, family, or the rest of his friends and schoolmates for that matter.

Takashi shook his head, but moved on to check on the others. Mitsukuni was already sitting up and flexing his hands in shock at being freed, and Kyouya was pulling himself to the same position. It was interesting to see Kyouya with sweat beading his brow – the second year was always calm, collected, and distinctly _not_ exhausted – but that was something to think of when they were not in a deathly situation. Even if that time only came when this ritual was over and they were sitting on some fluffy clouds with golden harps.

There was no problem whatsoever in getting the rest of the Hosts up, though Hikaru and Kaoru seemed almost as though they were made of lead when they were getting up. Yet Harry could still not be removed from the floor in those extra seconds as the temperature rose ever higher and the red bolts crackled along the floor and through the air, undisturbed by anything.

All over the room, others were getting up, trying to flee only to be turned back by the lightning. Whether they were repelled physically or by their own fright was anybody's guess, but the fact remained that most of those in the room – in the space of half the half minute it took for the temperature to become nearly unbearable to any but those most inclined to tropical climates – were no longer on the floor. In fact, through the forest of legs Takashi could see only one other person who remained adhered, and that was Harry's unofficial aunt Tonks Nymphadora.

It took about two additional seconds for Takashi to realize just _why_ they were still stuck; magic. Somehow it was now those with magic who were stuck, and the non-magical people, the muggles, were free to stand and walk and face death on two feet.

The lightning reached fever pitch, creating a great dome of lightning; a single bolt went straight down from the center –

And it dissipated into nothing. All of it, the magic lightning, the crackle it brought to Takashi's skin to give him goosebumps, the heat – all of it vanished as if it had never been. A cool breeze wafted through the high window, bringing with it the scent of an Ouran spring (something all the students were intimately familiar with after so many), and Takashi could feel his sweat cooling.

He was also hyper-aware of the fact that no one had moved, not even the Death Eaters who observed from the stage, the three leaders. They all stood stalk-still, as though incapable of perceiving this one gaping flaw in their plans. What had once been the makings of a deadly inferno was now a room filled with rather angry muggles and a few confused wizards.

His shinai had already made contact with the head of Malfoy Lucius – the same Death Eater who had once kidnapped Harry and who had taunted Takashi's boyfriend, who spawned the only person Harry had ever physically harmed "the muggle way" – before he even realized what was going on, instead letting his body take the helm. It wasn't a move he regretted either, as his sudden leap to the stage shook the rest of his fellow non-magical people out of their stupors.

Something which was not reciprocated by the Death Eaters until the angry muggles were already upon them.

Takashi did have to dodge a spell from the woman Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange, but for once he had no problems with hitting a lady. She had tortured Harry somehow; she was no _lady_, that was for certain.

A loud thud and crack from behind him alerted Takashi to the presence of the man who had been talking all throughout the waiting period, as well as Mitsukuni's presence on top of the aforementioned man's chest. He was down; good. He deserved it too, for lording himself and his colleagues over the many muggles who were present.

"Takashi, I'll tie them up!" Mitsukuni was already ripping down the drapes from the stage – heavy black ones that had obvious cost many a pretty penny – to which Takashi nodded before going off to help take down some more Death Eaters. With the wizards involved in the ritual down, both as the large sacrifice and the "pure" sacrifice, it was up to the muggles to rebel, and rebel they did.

Interesting how roughly forty surprised Death Eaters can be taken down with little effort by over 200 muggles. Though, to be fair, a few muggles of the same caliber as the Morinozuka and Haninozuka families would be able to take down the Death Eaters with or without the element of surprise. Wizards simply weren't versatile enough.

It was only when the Death Eaters had been trussed up and their wands confiscated that Takashi allowed himself to head back to the stage area where Harry was still lying. A relieved look on the young wizard's face turned into a stern one.

"What are you doing over here? I'm fine," Harry informed Takashi easily. Obviously hadn't been worried about himself as soon as everything failed and that worry had instead gone to Takashi, though he had likely been worrying about the soon-to-graduate teen the entire time. "Call the police and ask for the auror department." Takashi could only nod, though his gaze didn't leave Harry. "I'll be _fine_."

"... Aa," Takashi nodded again.

He didn't leave Harry's side the entire wait.

* * *

To say that Harry was surprised to find Takashi leaping over him all of a sudden, the sweltering heat suddenly gone with the crackling of lightning and the red light that had permeated the room now gone, would be an understatement. He _should_ be dead. He _should_ be in some void of unfeeling, or perhaps floating about as a ghost, or, depending on what religion had it right, living a new life, floating on a cloud, sitting in an even _hotter_ place than the room had been, or any other number of things that might have happened.

This was not the case as Harry found himself watching as, quite abruptly, all the muggles around the room (for _they_ had been freed somehow, while only Harry's tongue was released). It was… shocking to say the least. He couldn't see it happening, but Harry heard cries of pain from people who were certainly _not_ muggles. No muggle Harry had ever spoken with had sworn about Salazar's ingrown toenail.

In fact, the only visual evidence Harry had was that there were no muggles about him – and Lucius Malfoy's trussed up and unconscious body being thrown off the stage by Hani. But that was all the evidence he needed to know that the Death Eaters – the sodding _Death Eaters_ who had made life in Britain hell for so long – were getting their asses handed to them by a bunch of rich muggles, most of them fattened or spoiled rotten, yet they didn't balk at resorting to good old fashioned violence.

It was about three to five minutes later (Harry couldn't keep track of time without a watch) that Takashi returned. Harry was glad to see him whole – someone was bound to have been hurt in the assault – but there were more important things to take care of than Harry at the moment, and he knew that Takashi knew it.

In the space of two minutes, a full assault force of aurors had stormed in and started setting things to rights. They took down the apparition blockers (2) and started taking out the Death Eaters to get them imprisoned and then the injured (thankfully the worst injury was a broken rib) to the hospital. It was a swift process, though the magical law enforcement officers were careful and scanned for any extra threat before they even considered trying to free those who were still stuck to the ground.

Harry was the first one up, and as much as he wanted to hug Takashi, the one who initiated the muggle rebellion, he was still surrounded by aurors who seemed intent to talk to him as he was led through the room. Takashi followed the group though, keeping as much an eye on Harry as Harry was on him.

"We're going to call in an obliviation team as soon as we're down questioning everyone," Captain Watanabe stated as the ward team starting prying Tonks up from the ground. "This is a serious breach… how did we not know they were going for the Node?" The captain seemed highly agitated with himself.

"It was hardly obvious," Harry pointed out. "But… if I pay the fee, can they _not_ be obliviated, or is this too many people for it to be alright?" Wheels were already turning in Harry's head. A lot of very rich people all with a blank spot in their memories on the night of a rather important performance that everyone had been building up for; not only were most of them smart enough to figure it out, but there were so many possibilities to be explored if the heads of so many prominent companies knew of magic.

"I suppose you could, but the courts might still overturn that and obliviate them at a later date," Watanabe pointed out.

Tonks sent Harry a wink and said, "go for it," before she suddenly popped off the ground with a "whoosh" noise. "Those were the most unpleasant three hours of my life," she made a face before nodding to the aurors and rushing to Remus' side for a snog.

"I'll transfer the fees when the banks open on Monday," Harry decided before he could be overturned. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

But it seemed fate would not have it so, as Harry found himself suddenly surrounded by classmates and others who were _very_ interested to know just what had been happening and who those people had been because he clearly knew. They wanted to know everything, and Harry had already pledged himself to pay for their revealing. So he explained as best he could, some students obviously bringing his words back to their parents who were far too dignified to ask a teenager things like that but needed, or wanted, the information just as badly as their children.

It took a while, but eventually all the magical people who had inadvertently been involved were free from the floors and walls – Sirius and Krum having been priority as soon as the aurors realized they were there, as well as Tamaki's grandmother (and wasn't _that_ a shock!) – and Harry was even more swarmed. Just as he felt he was going to be crushed in the crush of students, parents, and aurors who were trying to get things in order in the crowded show room, he was saved.

And how glad to be saved when his savior came in the form of his boyfriend.

At the time, Harry had been pressed against the foot of the stage with very little personal space as he tried to explain magical medicine to Kyouya's father Yoshio and a few other medical families who were present. He had just been finishing and a group of Kasanoda's "brothers" were coming (they still scared Harry). With the cramped conditions, even the big, open room didn't make him feel very assured that the wall at his back was the only one closing in on him.

And Takashi had just lifted him out of the press of people as if he weighed nothing (which, by comparison, he might as well). Harry was very thankful to be saved, and even more so to finally see his boyfriend.

So thankful that he didn't even pause in pulling Takashi down for a kiss. (3)

Maybe the whole magic-muggle integration thing that his mother had tried to start would work out. But for the moment, Harry had more important things to think about - like getting the life snogged out of him by Takashi.

**Author's Note: Yeah, that was the last chapter... wow. It took me the better part of five months, but I did it! Don't forget to send in omake suggestions/requests either! I think I may have forgotten to jot a few down though... ehehe... well, if I forget any that were requested I'll just insert them, but still. You have until the omake chapter is posted to request!**

**So much for finishing by the end of November though, eh? Oh well. I'll have everything else up by Xmas (I hope). I don't intend to go beyond New Year though, that's for sure. Either way, this is now the longest story in the Ouran archives! Until the other really long story updates that is. (Though if they don't update before me I can get even more of a buffer in there!)  
**

**Thanks to everyone who has reviewed; there are a lot more than I expected upon starting this story. Though if everyone who had me on alert, favorite, and/or C2 were to review, that would pretty much double my current reviews... it won't happen, but I can dream, can't I? Anyway, it has been a great experience to write this story – never mind actually draw it to a close! – and I hope you lot enjoyed it... and that my first-ever ending didn't fail. Considering this story has **_**eaten my brain**_**... well, I gotta hope I'm not the only one, right?**

(1) pamplemousse is French for grapefruit. Some friends of mine who speak French have an in-joke about calling each other that. (Thanks to Sealunis for the spelling!)

(2) Not anti-apparation wards, which stop all apparation and disapparation. Apparation blockers prevent apparation through it, but not within it (Point A is outside, point B is inside, you cannot apparate from point A to point B, but if point A is within the barrier you can).

(3) This made the fangirls very happy. And every happy ending has to have a kiss between the leading man and his... uh... anyway, smoochy smoochy for Takashi and Harry! Yay.

_By request, a list of clues throughout the story on the whole Death Eater thing (I don't remember them all now though...):_  
In chapter 6 and 24 (mentioned), the candle ritual failed at Ouran and ONLY at Ouran. None of the rituals performed there have worked (Nekozawa's theory about rune arrangement was false, only assumed true because it worked at his house).  
In chapter 13, Lucius did nothing but rile Harry up, showing he really doesn't care if Harry is in Japan. (However, someone would have looked into it as soon as they found out because some Death Eaters will hold a personal grudge against him) They never bothered to hound him, and even as Harry says "they probably knew he lives in the neighborhood" they don't do anything.  
In chapter 20, Draco says, "You think the entire world revolves around you, don't you Potter? Ever think that maybe I just so happened to be enjoying a holiday outside of England and that you might not have anything to do with it?" which alludes to the Death Eaters not caring about Harry in the grand scheme of things.  
In chapters 33 and 34, it is mentioned (for a moment) that the locations mentioned in those chapters which had been attacked followed the Ouran seasons. This was also mentioned in chapter... 12 I think? That the lake followed Ouran seasons I mean.  
The DEs have attacked 11 places – compared to 7 and 13, 11 is an innocuous number. But I figured it must have some significance because kids start learning magic at 11. So, 11 (in my mind) is for stability as it is when a child's magical core begins to stabilize and prevent accidental/wish magic. Combining that, it is a stability of wishes. If that makes sense.  
The reason to ritual failed (to those who didn't figure it out); when Harry was under cruciatus, he bit his cheek and spit blood out on the stage, meaning the purity of the ritual was broken before they ever set up the final stage. This might not have done too much – maybe weakened the ritual – except for the fire dampeners and other spells that had been set up for the expected Black Magic Club show, which interfered with the stability of the Node.


	37. Fake Epilogue

Warnings: stupidity, parody-ish, makes fun of JK Rowling's epilogue

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling and Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisuko Hatori and their respective associates of which I am not one.

Features: GrownUp!HPatHC characters and some semi-OCs

The JKR Style Epilogue of Epic Fail

_Twenty-One Years Later_

At King's Cross Station, which is situated in London, England, there is one platform more than most people know about. This extra platform is hidden by a simple illusion and acts as the gateway to Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of course, the platform – Platform 9 3/4 – is only used a few times a year; September the first, the third Saturday in December, the second Saturday in January, the Saturday before Easter, the Sunday after, and June thirtieth, when Hogwarts begins and goes for breaks.

Of course, Morinozuka Takashi had heard all about this platform from his husband, Harry James Potter-Morinozuka (normally referred to as just Morinozuka Harry or Potter Harry depending on who was talking about him), but he didn't understand why they were there. After all, he, Harry, and the kids lived in Japan, and the children were perfectly capable of attending a Japanese school.

And the children themselves... don't get him wrong, Takashi loved the children. They were all adopted at birth from teenaged mothers, all magical though Harry and Takashi didn't care to make that distinction, and absolute angels (hellions). But he had made a mistake in letting Harry name them.

The oldest at thirteen was Morinozuka Jemezu, or James Morinozuka as the Hogwarts staff and most of Harry's British friends called the lad. Now, he name was perfectly understandable; James Potter the first was Harry's father and he deserved to be remembered. Although giving him the middle name of Hitoshi was a bit of a strange combination, Takashi did not begrudge his husband naming rights, and it was really nice of him to include Takashi's father's name in there.

Their daughter, Lily, was an absolute dear, and Takashi had been honored that Harry had that her middle name would be Hotaru after Takashi's mother. Again, nothing that would have begrudged him Harry's naming rights. But she was the youngest of the three, and it was their middle child who made Takashi want to tear his hair out.

Arubasu. Harry had named their second child _Albus_, as in Dumbledore. Why in Merlin's name (for Takashi had long since taken to the magical method of profanity) Harry had named their son firstly after a man who had treated Harry like trash by manipulating and stealing from him (never mind that Dumbledore had kidnapped Takashi) he could not say, and Harry had never really explained when asked. And Takashi _had_ asked. Frequently. Harry had merely shrugged and said it sounded right.

Even the English way of saying the lad's full name, Albus Severus Morinozuka, sounded as though someone had merely tossed together a bunch of random syllables and called it a name. Albus agreed and didn't understand his name any better than the older of his father's did.

"Alright boys, you have a good term, got that?" Harry smiled widely at the boy and ruffled two sets of very neat and tidy brown hair – a complete antithesis to that of both their fathers' wild locks – while Takashi lightly lifted Lily off of his shoulders where she had been roosting to see over the crowd so that she could hug her brothers good-bye. "James, you really ought to stop pranking Professor Weasley, and Albus, make sure you write us tonight."

"Don't call me Albus," he replied out of reflex. "It's a dumb name; you promised to call me Mamoru from now on. And I don't see why we have to go to Hogwarts. There's no electricity and we can't even use our cell phones. Why can't we just go to a school closer to home? At least those are all warded properly!"

Yes, Albus was a most reasonable child in Takashi's mind, and he had little doubt that Lily would be the same. Why did they have to use those thrice-damned portkeys – even worse since they were international transit – for the children to attend a substandard school (alright, so it was a _lot_ better now than it had been, but it was still not the best) that they honestly couldn't care less about? Takashi ended up having to tutor James in History himself due to the ghost that still taught at Hogwarts, and he had been the one to teach them all geography since Harry was pants at it.

"Takashi-tou-san," Lily piped up from where she had his hand grasped in both of hers. "When I go to school, can I go to Beauxbatons instead? Or better yet, the American school? I don't want to go to school with Weasley-san's kids! Maybe Mamoru-kun can go too!"

Oh yes, Lily was a reasonable one. Good for her.

"Nonsense Lily, you'll love Hogwarts! It's a castle, bigger than any of our houses, and there are ghosts," Harry sounded rather chipper. It was strange, considering he had claimed his children would never attend Hogwarts until the offer for them to attend had come in the mail. "Just think, only two more years to go Lilypad!"

Harry's choice in nicknames was almost as bad as his choice in regular names. Lily was about to protest, but Takashi picked her back up and put her on his shoulders.

"I'll talk to him later," he promised quietly, which put Lily back in a good mood. She was soon distracted by a small flock of flutterbyes that someone had released on the other side of the platform and was content to sit on her father's shoulders.

"Mamoru," Takashi muttered. Albus – henceforth referred to as Mamoru because Albus is a dumb name to begin with – grinned, immediately catching the meaning of the utterance and sprang into his father's waiting arms. Some people thought that Takashi wasn't affectionate with the children because of his silent nature, but the kids could see into his every movement and knew otherwise.

To them, it didn't need to be said, but Takashi always told them he loved them out loud anyway.

"Takashi, don't smother the boy," Harry joked. He was the one that did the smothering... it was actually rather scary. Especially after Takashi met Molly Weasley, who was the most overbearing (yet somehow endearing) mother he had ever met.

Of course, he'd never expected to get a threat from the woman about hurting Harry – in that if he did he was going to be castrated with a ladle and a Lockhart novel. How that would work, Takashi did _not_ want to find out.

"Now remember Mamoru, it doesn't matter which house you're in, because we'll love you all the same." Funny, it almost sounded the opposite. Of course, Takashi knew his children well. James was a Hufflepuff, friendly, outgoing, and a hard-worker as well as being insanely loyal. He'd known long before the actual Sorting. Lily would be either a Slytherin – she could manipulate with just one well placed bat of her large amethyst eyes or flip of her dirty-blonde hair – or Ravenclaw, and Mamoru was definitely in Slytherin. No doubt about it. "I was almost in Slytherin you know."

"Yeah, you've mentioned it enough," Mamoru dismissed the reassurances. He knew the Slytherin profile, and honestly, several of his "ji-san" (1) - Kyouya and Mitsukuni in particular – fit it well enough, though never exactly. "Still, owls smell funny."

Which was why Mamoru was bringing Ringo-chan (2), his tanuki (a descendant of Pome-chan), instead of an owl. James had a pure white kneazle that he had named Haku; Hedwig had died some time ago and Takashi was amazed how long Harry could mourn his owl, though he had been supportive. They had not bought an owl since, instead renting from the post office when it was required.

Harry might have said something then to his rather rebellious son, but something – or, rather, some_one_ – caught his attention. "Oi! Ron!" Yes, Professor Ronald Weasley (though how _he_ was made a professor...) was at the station with his wife Lavendar Brown and their children Rose and Hugo.

Takashi did not like Ron Weasley, yet Harry had still forgiven his ex-fake-friend for everything. He had also forgiven Draco Malfoy and various other personages who had wronged him, but that was another matter entirely.

They talked like old friends, as they might have been were it not for Dumbledore, and Takashi couldn't help but sigh.

When had the world gone mad on him? Madd_er_ that is.

Probably when he got married... yes, that just about fit.

**Author's Note: Yes, I just wrote that. Aren't I amazing? Anyway, hope it wasn't total crap (actually, I do hope it was crap because I was trying to emulate the canon Harry Potter Epilogue without actually having to read it again *shudders*), even if it **_**was**_** short. Off to write the REAL epilogue now! **

(1) Not Jii-san (grandfather), but Ji-san (uncle).

(2) Ringo means apple


	38. Real Epilogue

Warnings: Probably kinda fails (never written an epilogue before),

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Joanne Kathleen Rowling and Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisuko Hatori and their respective associates of which I am not one.

Features: GrownUp!HPatHC characters

The Real Epilogue (Twelve Years Later)

"Just take that potion twice a day, Matsuo-san, and you should be right as rain in a week," Harry informed his patient amicably. The man smiled in thanks and said his good-byes, leaving Harry to clean up his examination room where he took walk-ins.

The past twelve years since the last Death Eater attack had been good to Harry Potter – or, as he was now known, Morinozuka Harry – and he wouldn't have traded those years for the world. There had been times both good and bad, but so far he liked where he had ended up a lot better than where he had been heading when he first arrived in Japan.

After graduating from Ouran, Harry simply couldn't bring himself to go to business school. Yes, he was proud of his Company, particularly Potter-Evans Medical Supply, but he simply couldn't see himself as the Head and remaining sane. He wasn't the only person in his life after all, and with the combined pressure on him from Sirius, Takashi, and his friends at Ouran (for he had made a fair few after his classmates all found out about magic), there was little argument to be made.

Now Harry was a full-fledged healer, doing something that he really did love, and he was the magical medical consultant to the Ootori hospitals. Of course, he still owned controlling interest in Potter Co, and the current Head often came to him for the extra okay on any projects with the various parts of the conglomerate, but Harry really had very little to do in the running and business of the Company any longer.

Just the way he liked it, really. Healing was something he found himself enjoying; he helped people on a daily basis and no one really cared that he had been _the_ Harry Potter when they were being healed. Well, he still had fans, quite a few of them categorized as rabid, but his patients, even the magical ones, really didn't mind that he was Harry Potter and were simply thankful that he was healing them rather than that he accidentally defeated a Dark Lord twice.

With his room tidied up, Harry stood to his full height of five-foot-eight. He had grown two inches in his second year at Ouran, but since then he had remained stationary, not that he minded much. Takashi had gained an extra couple as well in his early university years, so their height difference remained as it had been at the start of their relationship.

Tucking a stray bit of shaggy black hair out of his face, Harry nodded to himself and left the room. It was time for him to clock out and head home to get ready; it was his ten year reunion that night after all, and he wanted to look nice, even though he regularly saw many of his old classmates.

With some parting words to his co-workers, Harry apparated to his and Takashi's home. It was part of the sprawling Morinozuka compound, since Takashi was still the primary heir of the family (though he had insisted that Satoshi gain that vaunted place), and Harry had already braced himself before he was tackled by an over-enthusiastic three year old.

Admittedly, Harry and Takashi took in a lot of orphans, at least for a time. Harry had converted most of his larger homes across the globe into orphanages, and occasionally there was a child who simply did not do well in that environment who Harry would personally care for until they were adopted. However, that was not the case with the little boy who was currently wrapped around his midsection.

Morinozuka Ryouta (1) was as much Harry and Takashi's as a child could be without one of them getting pregnant (an experience neither was keen on). He had been found abandoned by Molly Weasley, not even a month old, and Harry had taken the child in to wait for someone to adopt. It didn't take long for Harry and Takashi to decide that they wanted to boy to be theirs, and Sirius was pleased to witness the adoption ritual that would make him a Grandfather (or as close as he would become since not only did he and Ranka not want to get pregnant, but they were plenty content with just Haruhi and Harry to dote on).

So the messy haired child with curious eyes – both mostly gray with a green core, long since settled from the blue all babies possess – was quite content with his two fathers and had settled into a routine. Usually he would be babysat by "Siri-jii-chan" and "Ranka-ji-chan" (Ranka refused to admit that he was a grandfather) or else Takashi's family during the day, and then Takashi would pick him up around four on his way home from the University where he taught and studied Japan's history. Harry always returned home right around six-thirty, and Ryouta would tackle him. Weekends were the boy's favorite time though, because he had his fathers all to himself for two days straight, and Takashi did not work on Fridays (which this was).

"Ryou-chan," Harry lifted up the small child with nearly no effort, "how was your day with Takashi?"

"Good," Ryouta squealed mere inches from Harry's ear, but the younger of the two fathers didn't so much as wince; he was far too used to it and suspected he was going deaf in that ear anyway. "Played with the horsey! Mitsu-ji-chan (2) gave me cake at lunch!" Harry smiled indulgently at the boy, though he would have to talk to Takashi about the 'horsey'; they didn't have any horses on the property, though there was a kelpie living in the mansion Harry had built in high school.

"And are you ready to go visit with Siri-jii?" Harry asked the little imp in his arms. The emphatic nod was all the answer Harry needed to not feel guilty about leaving the child; Ryouta really _did_ love his grandparents, both sets, and it was only for the night after all. Takashi gesturing that Sirius and Ranka were already in the house too pick Ryouta helped a bit too. "Why don't you go and see him then, and we'll see you tomorrow breakfast."

"Promise?" The stern look was too adorable, but Harry had dealt with Mitsukuni in the years before he finally beat five feet, and he could stand his own son's theatrics with little more than a pinky promise. The ball of energy vaulted from his arms (certainly not a safe thing normally, but Harry anticipated that reaction as well and had lowered Ryouta to a safe height) and pelted out of the room.

Harry and Takashi traded a chaste kiss before sauntering off to their room to get ready. The dark green tux Harry had purchased for the event – obviously exorbitant as he had realized that being frugal wouldn't exactly help others even if it did free more of his money for charity – was reminiscent of the one he had worn at his freshman Carnival, and Takashi had been "tricked" by the twins into wearing one of their more tame designs.

Actually, the Hitachiin twins' clothing line was quite popular in the wizarding world, something their mother had not managed when she tried. Of course, they had the advantage to daring Harry to wear one of their outfits while in college, something that had spurred on a bit of fervor for Twintachiin Designs. And, of course, what one celebrity wears, the rest must try to out-do using the same designer or some such.

Harry never quite understood it, especially given the disdain for muggles that still clung to many pureblood wizards, but that was another thing that helped with the integration effort. No longer were magical commodities the only breach in security, but wizards now wanted muggle commodities more than ever. The marketing efforts made by the parents of Ouran students of ten years past rather helped in that. Of course, since the "big reveal" it became impossible to hide magic from any incoming students, weather it was to the high school section or no, and as such there was an introduction to the magical world for students and parent at the start of each school year.

Even more, things were traded that muggles could not explain. It had started with pepper-up, and slowly Potter-Evans had gained more rights to sell, and other companies wanted the right to sell more magical objects. Some things were explained away with ridiculous reasons like taking electrolytes from water or running on excess body heat, but most objects now sold to muggles – including self-tearing day calendars and singing Christmas cards – were completely unexplainable to muggles, something the masses didn't mind too much.

A sure sign, to Harry at least, that integration might be completed in his lifetime. A process that began not two years before his birth was already well on its way; Harry was truly proud of his mother's efforts.

"Harry?" Harry jolted and barely caught himself from blushing – a habit he had yet to properly rid himself of – at his husband's inquiry.

"It's nothing, just lost in thought," Harry shook his head. "I've been a healer for seven years; it just seems kind of surreal is all." Takashi smiled slightly and finished fixing his tie.

Half an hour later they were standing before the doors of the Ouran ballroom that they had danced together in on several occasions.

"So... ready to be the best looking couple in the room?" Harry threw one last grin to his husband before their names were announced and they descended to the ballroom floor.

Well, it was true after all.

**Author's Note: Okay... so hardly any longer than the fake one, but this is the real epilogue... probably still fails, but whatever. This is the ending that is canon to MY story so... nyah. Live with it.**

**Yeah, I realize that isn't quite how a three year old would speak; I have a five year old little brother, and I remember how he talked two years ago (much the same as now, but with fewer swear words... actually, scratch the last bit. He swore just as much then as he does now (more than I do, certainly)). Hell, I have four little brothers, so I'd say I'm familiar with how kids talk.**

**Omake chapter should be up by Xmas, but there are a LOT of omake to write, so we'll see.**

(1) Depending on the kanji, this can mean "cool, refreshing" (yes, a Karuizawa pun), "clear", or "good" and ta is "big" or "thick"... But I say it's the kanji for cool and refreshing.

(2) Like I said in the fake epilogue, ji-san is uncle and jii-san is grandfather.

_Mini-omake (Why? Because this popped into my head and had to be written!)_

"You're just being sensitive," Harry huffed during the drive back home. Takashi frowned. "You know I'm right. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Takashi continued frowning.

"Oh for the love of - !" Harry sighed and rested back in the car. "You're thirty. Excuse me for not seeing the problem with that."

Again, Takashi did not reply verbally, instead looking out the window dismissively.

"_And_ you're still dead sexy. Where's the downside in that?"

The lecherous glance that raked the form of twenty-eight year old Harry Potter told him he had said exactly the right thing that time.

After all, Ryouta was staying with Sirius and Ranka for the night...


	39. Omake

Warnings: Slash, book spoilers, manga spoilers, angst, clichés, brooding, chocolate abuse, reflected-upon child abuse, trauma, crude language, mentioned character death, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Dumbles bashing, mild sexual situations, AU for books 5, 6, and 7 of Harry Potter, disregards all Ouran chapters after 64.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and her affiliates. Ouran High School Host Club belongs to Bisco Hatori and her (it is her, right?) affiliates.

Featuring: Independent!Brooding!Isolationist!Harry, Clingy!Paternal!Sirius, and the host-bu guys being themselves

_Quick guide!_ There are two sections – _could have been/random weirdness_, and _other perspective_. Line breaks mean new omake (each will be headed with a chapter-time and title). That's it.

The Giant Omake of Death

_Scenes from other perspectives – happened from Harry's POV (7)_

(Chapter 4)

_Roommates_

Takashi glanced over at the other bed, not for the first time that night. He was quite unused to sleeping with another person in the room, though Harry had no issue... then again it could be that Harry hadn't slept in days and could sleep through a tsunami. Still, it had been half an hour and Takashi still hadn't managed to fall into slumber whereas Harry was laying out on his stomach with his face half buried in the pillow, a moonbeam falling across him. He wasn't being loud or even making any noise but for the very slight noise of slow shallow breaths.

Yet his presence was still painfully obvious. There was no reason behind it whatsoever because out of the corner of his eye Harry seemed like a lump of blankets, he was several feet away, and the slight opening in the curtains wasn't strange either.

But he still couldn't get to sleep at all.

Takashi sighed lightly into the night air and tore his gaze away. He stretched lightly – not too far lest he cause his leg to overstretch and send him into bouts of pain (not fun, to be sure) – and rolled away from the window (and Harry's bed) to face the door. It was only for the one night, then the maids could fix up more rooms and Takashi would have his own.

And he wouldn't have to spend his night wondering why he couldn't sleep.

**(The real question is, how he would start being goofy at this point with only a sleeping Harry to be goofy at?)**

**

* * *

**

(Chapter 18)

_Shipping and Handling_

The news that the Black Magic Club would be doing some divination for the Host Club (especially now that he knew that divination was a branch of _actual_magic) caught Takashi by surprise. Not a bad surprise certainly – the idea of magic was intriguing, even a "wooly subject" (Harry's words) like divination – since he would see some more magic and more of Harry. Not that Harry knew that he would be a good highlight for the day of course, but it was the thought that counted.

Kanazuki Reiko immediately came to the table that Takashi shared with Mitsukuni (they would have had separate tables today, but Kyouya had gathered intelligence that girls wanted to see the two together today), and Takashi was disappointed to see that Harry was going to the twins first.

He looked up every so often, mostly between groups of girls, to find Harry working with yet another group (most especially his year mates tended to have his attention), while Reiko continued to monopolize them – and Mitsukuni. Takashi sighed when the day had ended, and yet Harry had never come to his table. So much for looking forward to that.

With his table cleared, Takashi saw Harry was walking off to his study room and playing with that tiny crystal ball again. It was a very interesting skill, if impractical. Still, Takashi took the opportunity to walk up to Harry. He considered haling the younger boy as he walked up, but decided against it fairly quickly and merely placed his hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

Harry was already addressing him before he had turned around enough, which wasn't too surprising since anyone else would have addressed him. Takashi was kind of distinctive like that, he supposed. He smiled ever so slightly and held out his hand. "Palm reading?"

Okay, so he wanted a lot more than to just have his palm read, but Harry could (and would) do only so much for a guy who he obviously had no interest in... there had been signs to the contrary of course, but those were not guaranteed signs that Harry liked him like _that_.

Either way, Harry acquiesced. He grasped Takashi's hand and led him to a couch – the grasp wasn't necessary, but he did it anyway. Not a for sure sign that Harry liked him, much as Takashi might wish otherwise. Still, they sat down and Harry cradled Takashi's hand in his lap, ghosting his fingers over the lines in his right hand as he rattled off facts and meanings.

And it was all quite insightful and scarily accurate. How could his fingerprints have any meaning? And yet it appeared they did, and Harry read those meanings, no matter how personal they might seem. Yet Harry didn't seem too surprised by any of the information he was revealing, even if Takashi was surprised at being revealed through his hands. The Morinozuka tended to be unreadable, yet his hands said so much...

It was only when Harry got to his heart line that Takashi noticed any hesitation. What could it read, that he liked Harry? His sexual preferences? But all Harry said was that he would be passive in pursuit – which he was given that his attentions were most likely unwanted, no matter that Harry liked men – and very particular about his significant other. Though Takashi had to wonder at the pause before Harry referred to his "affections." Somehow that didn't seem the way Harry was meant to phrase whatever he was saying.

" All in all, whatever girl catches your attention will be very lucky indeed, Senpai," Harry stated. Takashi almost winced – his friends didn't even know he preferred men, did they? – but instead pulled his hand and flexed it a few times. Maybe Harry would read his other hand later, too.

"Thank you," Takashi stood from his seat and allowed Mitsukuni to bounce into it, excited at the idea of getting his own palm read. So excited that he had even forgotten his obvious machinations to get Takashi to ask Harry out (such as telling him that the dinner at Harry and Sirius' flat in October had been pushed up a half hour), but that was beside the point.

The point was that Harry now knew as much about Takashi' personality as Takashi knew about his, and he hardly blinked at it.

Yet another reason that Harry did not like him the same way. But Takashi would survive; Harry was a good friend regardless. The Morinozuka, more than their stoicism, were known for perseverance.

And he would most certainly persevere.

* * *

(Chapter 21)

_Tipsy and Takashi-sensei_

The call from Kaoru was unexpected, but not unwanted. Takashi was still sorting things out from the skiing trip – Harry had shown more than a few signs in the direction of Takashi, _and_ he had defended Takashi from the blond wizard's insults – and was pleased with the idea of giving Harry dancing lessons. It could be a bit awkward, but he would manage.

Likewise, the call to Harry was not a bad one, though Takashi later realized that he probably should have told Harry that he was coming that day since he and Mitsukuni were off babysitting duty while Satoshi and Yasuchika took their cousins to the cinema. Having Mitsukuni around might make things a bit easier at least, even if he was only going to be talking about dragons with Harry's surrogate big-brother.

When they arrived, Takashi lifted up Mitsukuni to knock on the door with a large silver knocker (strange that there was no doorbell, but it was a magical house; maybe they just didn't use doorbells?) and, when there was no answer, they cracked open the door. It was mostly open when a man with red hair appeared around a corner, looking like he had just run pretty far.

"Sweet Circe that's a long way," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. The man was only a few inches shorter than Takashi, with spiky red hair the same distinctive shade as the Weasley twins had, hyperaware blue eyes, and a large, shiny burn on one arm. "Hey, uh, who are you guys?"

"I'm Mitsukuni, and this is Takashi!" Mitsukuni piped proudly from where he had perched himself on Takashi's shoulders. "We came to see Harry-chan. Takashi is going to teach him how to dance." Mitsukuni wasn't really so immature as that, as some small amount of his childishness was a mask, but only barely. Given his stature and appearance, adding that extra layer of childish cuteness just made him more adorable.

"Oh, you'd be his mates from school then," the red head grinned. "I'm Charlie Weasley – er, Weasley Charlie I mean – nice to meet you." He shook Takashi's hand first, then Mitsukuni's, completely unfazed by the sugary-ness feigned or otherwise. "Last I heard from Fred and George, Harry took refuge in the second greenhouse; it's a nice bit of scenery on the way there. I wish he'd told me he was having company over though."

"Harry-chan didn't know we were coming," Mitsukuni giggled. "It's a surprise."

"Well, I'm sure he will be surprised," Charlie nodded seriously. "Come along then; Harry needs all the help he can get with dancing. Not that he's got two left feet or anything, just that no one he knows can teach if you catch my meaning."

Takashi didn't quite understand, but soon they moved back through the house. As they progressed Takashi saw more and more blatantly magical objects, including portraits with moving subjects, windows showing other countries (he was certain that that beach was near his family's property in the Bahamas), and a room that seemed to be a lab of some sort, likely for potions. All the way Charlie was talking about Harry fighting a dragon when he was fourteen with nothing to help him but his broom.

Somehow, that called for a bad pun, but Takashi did not dare say it.

"Right, I'm not going in there with you," Charlie informed them when they had been through the first green house (which including color-changing roses, some form of above-ground potato, and fruit trees growing fruit out of season). "Some of the stuff he keeps in there... well, it's your own funeral. Could be worse though; he could have gone in the _third_ greenhouse. You couldn't pay me enough galleons to go in there."

Takashi nodded his thanks while Mitsukuni waved jauntily at the newly christened "Charu-chan" before they left him behind and entered.

It only took a minute or so to find Harry crouched in the dirt, covered in loam and grass stains. It was cute, though Takashi wouldn't say it. Mostly because such a comment was likely unwanted and less because he wouldn't want to say it.

"Right, so the Lilies will stop chuckling and you lot will stop trying to take over their flowerbed, is that agreed?" If Takashi hadn't known better, he would have thought that both groups of flowers nodded – though he really did know better than to underestimate magic, and so said nothing on that either.

Upon seeing them, Harry seemed to believe he needed to justify himself, which – again – was cute, but Takashi continued to hold his tongue. Especially when he realized what he was doing and blushed. Though when Harry finished talking to them and suddenly snapped his fingers, Takashi was flummoxed.

Less so when he saw a floppy-eared creature with a tomato-like nose and large baby-blue eyes appear at his side. He recognized the emblem on the creature's uniform from Harry's snowboard.

When the concept of a house-elf was explained, Takashi immediately understood what Harry wanted to convey and couldn't help but think, firstly, that "Tipsy" seemed quite happy to serve Harry, more like a loyal friend than a slave, and secondly that the creature reminded him of the European tales of the brownies, a kind of elf that liked to help without being seen and without thanks because that was what it liked to do.

Mitsukuni went to theatrics of course, but not as badly as he might have, and he obviously felt for Harry's own moral plight. They left, and Mitsukuni went off with the dragon tamer while Takashi followed Harry back into the house. He paid attention to everything Harry said until they got back to the roses.

There was something yellow and black flitting between roses, and Takashi refused to take a step further.

He did _not_ like bees.

And without having to saying anything beyond "bee" Harry understood and led them another way around. Other people would have laughed at the idea of Morinozuka Takashi being afraid of bees, but they were creatures from the very pits of hell in his opinion. He wouldn't even eat honey, much to Mitsukuni's consternation.

When in the house, Harry gave him a quick tour of the first two floors – the mansion was bigger on the inside than the outside, it seemed – before running off to get into something less plant-covered. Takashi was immediately served some chocolate biscuits by Tipsy, who he thanked (the little elf had beamed brightly at him). They were good biscuits too, though Takashi couldn't help but think that Harry's were better. And not in some sentimental way, just that he preferred the taste of the ones Harry made.

When Harry returned, Takashi gave him a quick rundown of what was to be done by the one leading a dance, demonstrated placement of hands, and danced with the air as an example before he let Harry take over. He was very good at following by now, since he was often led by Mitsukuni at dances for one or two dances, and he knew how to correct Harry while they danced without taking away the lead.

"Don't look at your feet," he reprimanded, tilting Harry's chin up with his hand, "only the eyes." For Harry had slipped his gaze down to watch his feet. It may seem like a good tactic at first, but it set a bad precedent and could become a habit if they weren't careful.

"Yes, _Takashi-sensei_," Harry replied sarcastically. Not that Takashi caught the sarcasm; he was surprised that Harry had called him Takashi. It took quite a few measures before he let a smile – larger than that usual reserved smiles, that was for certain – before they were able to continue dancing, though they didn't.

_Why_ would Harry call him Takashi? There was no reason behind it. Sensei was obviously a bit of a jab, but he was teaching Harry to dance so it wasn't total mockery at least. Still, he smiled widely at Harry, in a way that seemed almost familiar... but how? Takashi never really smiled so widely and he was surprised enough that he had let himself be so pleased by something so simple, and yet...

_He called me Takashi_, he couldn't help the grin this thought inspired.

There was a loud pop and Harry tried to turn in his grasp, something Takashi's sluggish mind couldn't wholly prevent as they suddenly tumbled to the floor. It was quite improper, but Takashi was still dumbfounded enough to not think to jump up immediately and instead took a moment to get off of the object of his desires.

He hardly noticed when Tipsy said that Mitsukuni had said they had to leave (though he did catch that the elf called him _Harry's_ Takashi).

In the car, the slightly-goofy smile slipped back into place somewhat when Mitsukuni asked if anything had happened.

"He called me Takashi," he repeated the thought that he been bouncing about in his skull. Being called Takashi by Harry... it was something he could get used to. Maybe he would make at least that much clear at a later date.

* * *

(Chapter 29)

_Kendo-Kiss_

Takashi wiped a few beads of sweat quickly from his forehead and walked to the far wall to put his shinai away. Everyone else had left the kendo club already, and he was supposed to be leaving with Satoshi to head home soon. Still, he was breathing heavily and could only barely hear the sound of light footsteps on the tatami behind him over the pumping of his own blood in his ears.

With his shinai on the rack, he turned to see Harry walked toward him, an almost lecherous look in his eye, and before Takashi could even move to acknowledge his boyfriend, he found his lips otherwise engaged. Not that he was going to complain, though he had been a bit short of breath when Harry jumped him, so the snogging session didn't last as long as he may have liked (air wasn't _that_ necessary to life, was it?). He pulled away slowly and rested his damp forehead on Harry's.

He couldn't help but to wonder what had brought that on. Again, not that he was complaining – he could do with plenty more random snogging sessions – but it was more than a little random. And, more so, Satoshi was outside. They hadn't told anyone abut their relationship. Takashi kept meaning to, he just... was a bit preoccupied with molesting Harry's mouth.

"Satoshi's outside," just an observation to make Harry aware that it was entirely possible for them to be walked in on. He lifted his head again and kissed the seemingly bare area in the middle of Harry's forehead before resting his head again.

And Harry had _known_ Satoshi was outside the dojo, and seemed not to mind too much of Takashi's little brother saw them. In fact, he seemed more concerned with Takashi not wanting Satoshi to know (preposterous; his family had known he liked men since before he started at the high school level and he had no reason to hide that). For not minding, Takashi couldn't help but sacrifice what little more of his breath he had caught.

This time Harry had to break away, his face red and his eyes a bit fuzzy looking.

Takashi knew there was a reason he loved Harry; this was just one of those reasons.

* * *

(Anytime Between the ends of 32 and 34)

_Doujinshi Paradise_

Houshakuji Renge knew a sordid affair when she saw one, and she had seen the makings of it for months between Mori and Harry. She had seen all the glances, the little touches and flirtatious small talk (okay, so there wasn't much talking, but she was a very imaginative person), everything that pointed towards the two boys being lovers. Her cluster of fellow yaoi fangirls listened in awe whenever she expounded upon what she had seen most recently that might point towards there being a _genuine_ gay couple at Ouran.

Only, she had never expected to be _right_. Those same observations were made about plenty of boys, especially the Hosts – the Hitachiin twins and Haruhi, the Hitachiin twins and Tamaki, Tamaki and Haruhi, Tamaki and Kyouya, Kyouya and Haruhi (for he was obviously the uke in any situation), Kasanoda and Haruhi, even Mori and Hani – and yet she had inadvertently stumbled upon the true yaoi pairing.

And she was immediately smitten. In the course of two days, as soon as she had heard Potter Harry's proclamation, she had written a full doujinshi script and was already in the process of drawing the art for it before Mori had returned to school from the whole kidnapping-thing.

They were bought up quickly, but sales flagged in a week, and for good reason. Even Renge couldn't get the same thrill from reading her doujinshi as from that one photo of the two boys cuddling. It was adorable, and from the position of Mori's head – lips lightly brushing the smaller boy's neck in a semi-erotic way – just enough to make it obvious to even someone who might believe the pair straight that they were most certainly not.

Of course, seeing this she was soon convinced that the imaginary love pentagon (of Hikaru, Kaoru, Haruhi, Tamaki, Kasanoda, and Kyouya) must be real. After all, if she was right once…

If only she knew that the yaoi hexagon was a completely heterosexual love pentagon – now _that_ would make for an interesting manga.

**(But, alas, Bisuko-sensei already made that.)**

**

* * *

**

_Various characters' thoughts regarding Takashi/Harry_

**Tamaki:** Um... well, not that I have anything against it, but I did _not_ need to find out by watching them kiss.

**Kyouya:** It's good for business. The fangirls – particularly Renge-kun – will pay a lot for pictures of them.

**Haruhi:** My father is dating Harry's godfather; I'm not about to find this strange. Whatever makes them happy. And I did kinda help with trying to get them together... mostly on accident of course, but... I dunno. They seem to work well together.

**Hani:** I'm going to have an awesome cousin-in-law!!! Besides, I was trying to get them together in the first place. Takashi's been in need of a nice boyfriend for a while, and Harry-chan fit the bill perfectly! :3

**Hikaru:** I dunno, I guess I don't really care. People like who they like, and if Mori-senpai and Harry like each other...

**Kaoru:** Better than if Haruhi was dating Harry-kun. It's bad enough that Cassanova got her, but I wouldn't be able to stand it if she preferred _Harry_ to my brother.

**Sirius:** I'm really happy for Harry. Okay, so maybe I should have tried to give Takashi some kind of talk about not hurting Harry... but at this point I think that would just be pointless. Besides, they're happy together; if Harry's happy than so am I.

**Ranka:** I don't know Takashi-kun very well, but two cute boys together... well, I must say I approve ;)

**Satoshi:** I figured Harry-senpai liked Taka-nii-san as soon as we had lunch together, and Taka-nii-san was pretty interested in Harry-senpai so it wasn't too hard to figure out. Anyway, I really think Taka-nii needed a boyfriend. He's always been amazing but now he's even better! And Harry-senpai is cool too. He used magic to turn my shinai green! I like green...

* * *

(Pre-Epilogue)

_Adventures in Babysitting_

Mitsukuni stared at the small child in front of him. He knew how to be a father – he and Reiko had two daughters after all – and he had taken care of his cousins before... but how was he supposed to be an uncle? Ryouta was almost three, and this was Mitsukuni's first time babysitting the little boy.

"Anou... Ryou-chan, do you want to have some cake?"

Little did he know that he had just become Ryouta's favorite uncle.

* * *

_Scenes that could have been and random weirdness – as in none of this is real! (11)_

(Chapter 15-16-ish)

_Sink or Swim_

All things considered, Harry dealt with things rather well. He went home, shrunk all his things, and left Sirius a very noticeable note (in that it had Attention Drawing charms on it) before apparating to the mansion he'd had built. It was far too much for just him, but he needed to be away from Sirius, and on the off chance that he hosted a business dinner or something he needed appropriate premises.

He felt quite guilty about leaving Sirius so suddenly, but it had to happen. He had decided that distance was the only thing that could save his godfather and newfound friends.

At school the next day, Harry did not acknowledge the Hosts when they greeted him, much as he wanted to. The looks of surprise – and hurt in some cases – made him want to shrivel up and die, but he could not and did not. He ignored them all day and caught the bullet train to an apparation point which he took home. He didn't need the study space that the-room-that-was-once-his afforded now that he had an open link to the Potter Library in his home and Sirius couldn't bother him.

Normally, Harry might have considered that Sirius could bother him through his phone at least, but Harry's wards weren't calibrated for electronics just yet. He had called Gringotts to see if they could send him a warding team to take care of that; they would arrive within the week.

This continued all week as Harry narrowly dodged his friends-that-could-not-be and godfather. On Friday he received a missive during lunch telling him that the warding team had arrived, and he apparated to the rendezvous point. The five teens pursuing him – for Kyouya was in France and Tamaki was supposed to be in France – were flummoxed as to how he had turned a corner and simply _vanished_.

The warding team surprised him, in that it contained Bill Weasley. A pleasant enough surprise, though Harry would really rather not have to deal with anyone who knew him at such a moment in time. Still, he was friendly with the man and damned himself for being too weak to resist socializing when given such an opportunity.

Things managed to remain all business for the first three hours, regardless of familial affiliations. They went to Harry's house and Bill directed his team to start sorting through the wards. Harry ended up giving him a tour of the house while the peons went at it, a tour which ended up stopping at Harry's indoor swimming pool.

"So you finally learned then?" Asked Bill.

"No," Harry shrugged, "but I will eventually and I'd rather swim in a pool than some lake." It was the truth; he could tread water (sort of) and doggy-paddle, but that was about it.

Of course, Bill couldn't have that and declared that he would be teaching Harry to swim for the rest of the afternoon since, "They won't need me for a good hour or so, and I haven't had a good swim since August. The Sahara is kinda dry after all."

About an hour into the lesson, however, Harry's head elf, Tipsy, popped in to tell Harry that he had people waiting for him in the second living room. This was the one further back in the house, the magical living room rather than the first, which was completely muggle but for the current lack of electricity. Obviously, the team thought they needed Bill's help now, so they both climbed out of the pool and made their way back to the main part of the house.

Harry had no troubles having a regular conversation with Bill as they walked to the living room in question. He had no trouble admitting that Bill was a fine specimen either, but ten years age difference was a bit much on his attractiveness scale. So he didn't have trouble averting his gaze from the oldest Weasley son's bare chest either.

Well, okay, he peeked, but just a little.

"Harry-chan!"

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin upon seeing five of the Hosts in his living room. His obviously magical living room with moving portraits, a wizard's chess set (the pieces were currently fighting with each other), and the room itself painted to reflect the outside of Harry's home so perfectly that even the setting sun was properly blinding to look at.

He was too busy being horrified to notice that Mori was giving Bill a rather unsavory look.

* * *

(Chapter 17)

_It's Called Magic_

Harry explained magic quite calmly to Tamaki, and as the boy's emotions changed he tried to adjust the explanation. It didn't seem to help any.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, eyeing the Host King worriedly. He was getting the sort of look that he had heard muggles who didn't like magic gave when it was explained to them. A furrowed brow, curious gaze, and a stern set to the jaw that was uncharacteristic of Tamaki were his clues.

"Why are you telling me this?" Tamaki seemed genuinely confused. "You're _Potter Harry_ after all; you already knew I was a wizard, so why explain it?"

Silence greeted this statement.

"You... did know, right Harry-kun?"

"No..." Harry gave Tamaki a quite dumbfounded look. Tamaki... was a wizard?

"You didn't? Oh..." He glanced at the rest of the assembled – and shocked – Hosts. "Why else did you think Nekozawa-senpai wanted me in the Black Magic Club so badly?"

Harry had no response for this.

* * *

(Chapter 23)

_Traditionally Sexy_

After the fireworks display, Harry was a bit… antsy. He had until tomorrow to tell Takashi how he felt; tomorrow was less than one hour away at this point. He sighed, but smiled at Fred and George who were engaging him in conversation with his classmates and entertaining a group of Ouran students with stories of Hogwarts – made muggle-safe of course.

"You know Harry," whispered George to Harry as Fred took the helm of the story-telling, "there are some traditions regarding the stroke of midnight on the New Year." At Harry's silence – and perked brow – George continued. "Some people throw back a glass of wine, and I've heard of some muggles banging pots and pans, though that seems kinda commonplace to do for a group here… and the fireworks already went off, so that's out."

"Your point?" Harry sighed and leaned back. He kept half an ear open to Fred telling everyone about the TriWizard Tournament (in muggle terms and without the word "wizard" in the name of course) so that he could field questions properly at a later date. There was obviously something that George wanted to tell him after all.

"Well, there's no wine, so the only other tradition is to kiss the nearest person," the devilish grin on his face was most certainly not from Fred telling everyone about a swimming relay where Harry had to rescue their ponce of a little brother from the middle of the school lake when he barely even knew how to swim and how "valiant" he was to make sure everyone else made it to the hostages before swimming back with, not only their brother, but another competitor's little sister.

"Fascinating," Harry deadpanned. He sipped some of the sparkling juice. "And I should go by some tradition I've never really cared about before _because_… why exactly?"

George shrugged, "Thought you might like to have a certain opportunity with a certain tall someone with a good excuse is all."

Harry scowled, but said nothing further and instead interjected a few points to Fred's story-telling (about how it wasn't Fleur's fault that she was attacked in the Task and Ron helped him get Fleur's sister to shore anyway). Honestly, the ideas Fred and George came up with!

About ten minutes later, Takashi (it was so strange to call him that!) came up to Harry and – surprisingly enough – requested another dance. Harry might have stammered and said either no or yes very quickly, but he saw Kyouya off to the side with a camera and quickly caught the motive. Apparently Kyouya wanted some more yaoi fodder, and Harry was a prime target.

For the first time, Takashi was the one to lead the dance, and Harry had no problem relaxing into being led.

All of a sudden, dancing stopped as a rather large bouncy ball found its way to the dance floor, though why Harry could not say. However, he did catch the start of a countdown.

"Ten! Nine!" They were counting down to the New Year. "Eight!" George's words caused Harry's brain to go into overdrive. "Seven!" Takashi was still holding him closely. "Six!" Should he do it? "Five!" _Could_ he do it? "Four!" He wanted to and yet he didn't want to and it was all so damn confusing. "Three!" This was his chance, and he could always lay the blame on that stupid tradition. "Two!" Harry pursed his lips and glanced at Takashi, who had let go of his hand to swat the ball away. "One!"

And because his hand was freed from Takashi's grip it seemed to gain a mind of it own, in that suddenly Harry found that hand reaching forward and grabbing the back of Takashi's neck and pulling while the other – which was still on Takashi's shoulder – helped support him as he stood on tip-toes.

The great cry of "Happy New Year!" died a sudden death in Harry's part of the dance floor as people noticed Harry and Takashi were… well, kissing, which was not something they normally saw either of those two people doing. Of course, Harry – being the gentleman that he was – backed off quickly and moved to apologize, ready to tell Takashi that it was a tradition in Britain and he hadn't meant to and a slew of other platitudes.

He did not get the chance, however, as Takashi's other hand, which was still on his waist, pulled him in again, the free hand went to his cheek, and Harry found his face in close contact with the object of his desires once more.

It was unexpected… not that Harry was going to complain of course.

* * *

(Anytime Between 26 and 30)

_I am your King, Dattebayo!_

Harry wondered how they got him into these things. Sure, he was friends with the Hosts, but not too terribly close, and certainly not enough that he should get involved with any of their events. Certainly not with only two hours notice on a cosplay event.

Yet Harry was still standing with the Hosts when their clientele entered, and feeling quite foolish. They had given him a long black wig, most of which was tied in a bun on top of his head with some hanging a bit in front, a dark green kimono with white edging, a brown obi, a black sweater, and a strange white and red mask with four wavy marks on the forehead. He had no idea what cosplay they were getting him in on, and honestly, he felt he looked ridiculous.

And he probably would have refused if they hadn't shown him Takashi's costume – in that Takashi was going to be half naked and the character Harry was dressed as (from some manga he had never heard of, not a surprise considering he didn't read manga) was the constant companion of Takashi's character. So he would spend the day with Takashi while Hani serviced alone at his own table.

Harry could be "Haku" for the day, since it meant being near "Zabuza."

However, he honestly had no idea who everyone else was. Haruhi had extensions as well, though not as long as Harry's, pulled into a ponytail; the twins kept calling her "Shikamaru" or just "Shika" while Tamaki complained that she ought to be some girl called "Sakura." Even after all this time, he still didn't get that revealing Haruhi so far into the cross-dressing scheme was a _bad_ idea.

It seemed that the only set of twins in that manga were bad guys, and lame ones that Hikaru and Kaoru refused to play, so they had taken the rolls of a teacher-student duo who were... rather creepy looking. Black bowl-cut wigs covered their hair and extremely bushy black eyebrows attached to their own. They also wore green spandex one-lets, and kept crying and shouting "Gai-sensei!" (Hikaru) and "Lee!" (Kaoru). It was more disturbing that their usual twincest act, yet the girls lapped it up.

Hani was, predictably, dressed as a little boy. His wig was a medium brown and he got to be loud, which was fun for him. He also liked the ridiculously long scarf that was wound around his neck and the goggles on his forehead, and the girls found "Konohamaru-kun" adorable.

Kyouya wore a silver wig, also in a ponytail, and the metal plate on his forehead had a music note engraved on it. He clothes were quite normal compared to everyone, yet "Kabuto" seemed somehow more evil than Kyouya's usual portrayal of himself. The fangirls giggling in the background didn't help Harry figure out anymore on that character.

However, it was Tamaki's character – Uzumaki Naruto, the title character of the manga – who had Harry most confused. He was supposed to be a ninja... yet he was wearing bright orange. The twins green he could understand, since green blended with foliage at least a little, but a baggy orange jumpsuit? How did that even make sense for a ninja?

"You shall be my dearest flower, dattebayo!" And he kept ending each sentence with "dattebayo."

Harry sighed and sent pleading eyes up at Takashi, though they couldn't really be seen through the slitted eyes of his mask. "Shoot me now?" Takashi just smiled and adjusted the overlarge fake sword that was slung over his shoulder. Harry sighed; he'd thought not.

Still, between groups of girls Harry had no problem getting the daylights snogged out of him by a half-naked Takashi. It was a highly interesting experience.

Maybe he could help the Hosts out a bit more often?

* * *

(Anytime Between 26 and 30)

_Mission Faked Illness: Failure_

When Harry found out that Hani had stayed home sick – and so suddenly – he was shocked, and immediately moved to comfort Takashi. He obviously felt guilty – it was written all over his face, even if one didn't notice the slightly-slumped shoulders and other danger signs – and Harry saw it as his duty to keep the older boy out of Tamaki's emo-corner. Merlin knew they had cultivated enough mushrooms to last months.

"Don't worry Takashi; it's all the changing seasons, you know?" Harry reassured the older boy. "Hani-senpai will be fine. He had a cold back in September too, and I already sent a healer to his place to take care of him properly. He'll be better by the end of the day."

Takashi didn't seem at all convinced and remained slumped at his table in the Host room. Everyone else was trying their best to pretend that nothing was wrong, and even though Takashi was in no state to service his fangirls, both his and Hani's were watching the scene from some nearby free tables. Not that Harry noticed – he was too busy dealing with his distraught boyfriend.

"Takashi, you really ought to cheer up; have you so little faith in modern medicine that it can't take care of a simple cold?" Harry chided, trying to gain the desired positive response. Takashi gave him a sort of "why should I?" look that made Harry huff.

He leaned forward and whispered something in Takashi's ear that the fangirls strained to hear, but he was too quiet. However, judging by the way Takashi perked up, it was something they _really_ wanted to know. Although the strangely red tint to the cheeks of one Morinozuka Takashi was obviously a trick of the light; he didn't _blush!_

Two hours later, Ootori Kyouya called Haninozuka Mitsukuni, who had been playing sick, and proclaimed the mission a failure. It seemed operation get-Mori-and-Harry-to-quit-being-dense was as stagnant as it had been since they had started it at the New Year's party.

Oh how little they knew.

* * *

(Chapter 32)

_Down With Dumbles, Muggle-Style_

Albus Dumbledore looked out the false window for the umpteenth time, waiting for the owl that would say that Harry had acquiesced to his demands. It was only a matter of time, but until then he would try to get Morinozuka to eat again. The poor boy was still refusing to eat, and it truly pained the ex-Headmaster to see any child in such a state (Harry, of course, was a weapon, tool, and pawn and therefore not subject to that same guilt).

A loud crash at the front of the house alerted him to intruders, and Albus dropped the tray he had been holding (filled with sweets, mashed potatoes, and more sweets) to go for his wand. Morinozuka turned a curious glance to the door, which alerted Albus to just how fast the intruders in question must be.

Following the suddenly lit gaze of his hostage, Dumbledore was surprised to see a little blond boy with large brown eyes glaring at him. Behind the little boy (he can't have been even old enough to attend Hogwarts) were several others, including a young glasses-wearing lad who could be the blond boy's older brother, perhaps 13 years old, and another boy of the same age who was doubtlessly the younger sibling of Morinozuka.

For a moment he wondered how muggle children had entered his trash-fortress, but then he saw a few adults – all obvious relations to the children – take up muggle martial arts stances behind the boys who did the same. His eyes widened, but there was nothing to be done.

The next thing he knew, Albus Dumbledore was on the floor and nursing a broken nose from being hit in the face by Morinozuka's younger brother, particularly by the wooden sword the child was wielding. As he was getting the snot beat out of him by three kids, Albus could think of only one thing.

Honestly, who gave kids weapons at that age?

**(Everyone Dumbles, especially wizards.)**

**

* * *

**

(Chapter 34)

_Boobs_

Harry was waiting with Sirius and the Hosts at the airport for their guests from Europe (mostly Britain, but Remus lived in France after all). He had turned to ask Hani something, but this was apparently not the greatest idea as he found himself tackle-hugged – not glomped in the manner that Sirius preferred, but actually tackled – by something crimson. And with boobs.

Of course, Harry had nothing against boobs, in fact he rather liked them (though he was more than content to be with Takashi, who was quite notably lacking female appendages); he just wasn't terribly interested in the girl who was currently straddling his stomach and trying to push the aforementioned objects in his face.

Harry scowled at the girl; what was she doing out of school in the first place? Ginny Weasley was in her fifth year at Hogwarts and should not be in Japan, let alone breaking the restraining order by tackling him.

"Harry! Did you miss me?" She leaned further, trying again to draw attention to her bust.

"As much as I missed Dumbledore before he kidnapped my _boyfriend_," Harry deadpanned. Ginny didn't seem to catch the lack of enthusiasm or the implications of the statement.

"Oh, it's so terrible that he was sentenced like that," she sighed airily, "but now you have me back, so things are going to be so much better! I promise that I'll –"

She was cut off suddenly as Takashi pulled her off of Harry and then latched himself to the poor victimized first year.

Ginny could only gulp and nod when Takashi told her in no uncertain terms to "keep her mitts off of his boyfriend."

* * *

(Chapter 36)

_Neko wa hebi ga daikirai_

Lucius Malfoy stood on the lip of the stage, his wand touching the large rune at his feet. A large, slow grin formed on his face. This was it, it was time to summon _him_!

"We beseech you, grant our greatest desires! Come to our aid! Rid us of the impure filth!" Lucius cried out. He took another great intake and belted out the name of the djinn lord they sought to summon. "Lord Berezenef!"

Almost as if Mt Fuji had decided it would be fun to move to another continent – by walking of course, because planes are too small to carry a mountain – the earth shook and slowly a great black shade appeared in the middle of the room, looking down from the ceiling at the Death Eaters.

"Lord Berezenef! Step forth and claim their lives!" Bellatrix called out from Lucius' left. The great shade became more prominent, large red eyes, slitted down the middle as their old master's had been, stared malevolently down from what was easily two stories up.

Those eyes raked over the surrounding environs slowly, causing Lucius to shudder. It was disturbing, the way they seemed to see everything without moving, yet did so despite that. Twice that swiveling gaze halted, if only for a moment, before continuing on, all the while becoming more corporeal.

"Great Lord Berezenef!" Roodwood this time, from Lucius' right. "We offer these sacrifices in return for your freedom and greatest service!"

The shade halted, nearly at the point where it would become more than a mere shadow of energy, before a low chuckle echoed throughout the showroom where the muggles had been having their "carnival" (though, really, it wasn't a carnival of any sort so _why_ they called it that was anyone's guess).

"Servants of the Snake Lord Nagini request my aid," the booming voice muttered. Another peal of low chuckles. "And for sacrifice they offer muggles and purebloods a like. I wonder, Snake Worshippers, do you know who has found their way into the proffered buffet?"

This was not part of the ritual... but Lucius responded, fearing what the demi-god might do otherwise. "Our greatest foe and many muggle filth, as well as a font of magic all yours for the taking Lord Berezenef!" Hopefully, that would be the right answer.

The eyes swiveled again. "Your greatest adversary, the Potter who destroyed Lord Nagini's scion, I take it?" Almost at once, the shadow was looming over the lip of the stage, and Lucius could almost feel the dark magicks that were making up its form. "And the 'muggle filth' as you call them... but you insult me, Snake Worshippers."

Lucius, and all of the Death Eaters, gasped and many took an involuntary step back as suddenly the shadow seemed all the more ominous to them rather than the filth who were stuck by mere targeted-sticking charms. How had they insulted it? Were there not enough sacrifices?

"You offer up my own servants as sacrifice, the Great and Noble House of Nekozawa," At this, three of the supposed muggles (Lucius recognized one as a squib who had claimed that squibs could have magical children, a laughable notion) were levitated seemingly effortlessly from the floor, and the youngest of the pureblood sacrifices, a little girl, was torn off as well to join them. "You should know better than to so blatantly insult a djinn."

Lucius and the other Death Eaters vanished in a swarm of black without even time to scream, each leaving in their place a wooden cat-doll. The great shade of Berezenef vanished as well, and all the spellwork that kept bound the ritual's victims was released.

In the middle of the ritual square, a small black cat hopped from the ground to the shoulder of Nekozawa Umehito and burped slightly.

**(Not quite what was requested, but it works.)**

**

* * *

**

(Chapter 36)

_Super Ninja-Witch_

They never stood a chance, Tamaki realized as he stood on the stage. The Death Eaters were all in a pile on the stage before anyone had even realized something might be wrong, with a single figure standing atop them.

Well, the show must go on, and while it was unorthodox, Tamaki supposed that their savior deserved to be in the show.

After all, his grandmother _was_ a ninja.

* * *

(Chapter 36)

_Beauty and the Djinn_

The djinn opened its eyes, taking into its new surroundings. The temperature was a bit chilly – still cold enough for a human to survive – but he would make due. Yes, this was a good step above the pocket dimension where he had been sealed, though the scent of deceased humans rather rankled him.

Slowly, the djinn took in his new surroundings; a grand hall of marble with a stage and throne at the fore prepared for his use. The humans – scratch that, two wizards and a witch – stood near the lip of that stage with their wands slowly lifting from a great rune of the ancient tongue (the rune for release). And, of course, one could not forget the droves of dead humans at his feet.

Slowly, the djinn – who had taken a humanoid form upon his summoning and seemed a tall thin man with long black hair and almost grayish skin – lowered himself from the ceiling where he had been hovering and placed his feet on the stage. He did not, however, pay much mind to the wizards who were staring at him in a mixture of incredulity and awe, but instead continued to survey his surroundings. Not only were there dead people on the floor, but thirteen dead wizards on the walls, including a small child.

The djinn _liked_ children, and not in the "they taste good lightly toasted with eggs benedict and diced tomatoes" way that his father had preferred them.

Still, he didn't much care and looked further, ignoring the beseeching of the wizards. There were some dead wizards on the floor, very few but enough to be noticeable. The magic that was still slowly seeping from their bodies made it easy to pick out where the magical ones dwelled.

A little known fact about magical creatures is that, when they die, their creature-abilities seep out with the magic. And so as the leaks spread, the djinn caught a whiff of magic from the most scintillating of sources; a demi-veela. And he wanted her.

With a wide wave of his arm, the swirling nexus of the node swarmed through the room and brought to people back to life. Even as that happened, he kept his eyes pinned to the demi-veela and approached slowly. The room had erupted into chaos, the resurrected attacking those who worked the ritual, but the djinn only grabbed up the veela woman and brought her to his throne.

The magical governments who had tried so hard to wrest the node into their control lost their chance as it – and Ouran High School – became the kingdom of the djinn and his chosen mate.

Although, as it was happening, said mate could only wonder what she had smoked and where she could get more.

* * *

(Pre-Fake Epilogue)

_Harry's Insanity_

_**Albus Dumbledore Escapes from Prison!  
With Dumbledore out, what will happen now?**_

_By Houshakuji Renge..._

Takashi glanced over his paper at his husband, who was being... very strange. Dumbledore just escaped from jail... could that be why?

"I think the kids should go to Hogwarts," Harry said suddenly.

Three hours later, Takashi called the aurors to test Harry for Imperius, but no trace was found. It seemed that Takashi had merely married a lunatic.

... A sexy lunatic.

**Author's Note: Yeah, this is the last thing I will ever post for this story. There were going to be 31 of these, but I didn't want to write some of them... and, honestly, this is big enough as is. 18 of these and over 9k words? Yeah, done with this story… now I'm going to go work on something else (maybe Quick as the Cold Wind?) :D On an unrelated note, there are over 92k hits on this story... I'm kinda hoping to hit 100k by the end of the year.**

**By the way, I've been editing (most especially getting rid of my mispelling of Kyouya's name that I decided to perpetuate rather than fix), so... yeah :P**

**This story has over 92k reads, over 250k words, 39 chaps, 83 C2s, 316 favs, and 354 alerts upon completion.**

**(Upon FINALLY finishing the editing, there are 213k hits, 261k words, 39 chaps, 117 C2s, 609 faves, and 353 alerts. I suppose it could be said there are 40 chapters though, since I wrote Orpheus a smut-sequel for christmas last year... (If anyone wants it, just send me a PM and I can give you the adultfanfic link... after Sept 19 2009 when I turn 18 that is))**


End file.
